


The Forest for the Trees

by LettersfromLaika



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Epilogue, Rebuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LettersfromLaika/pseuds/LettersfromLaika
Summary: Duck and Minerva in the aftermath. Alternatively, how in the heck they got to pet-names in Brazil.Featuring: Duck Newton’s inability to lie, explicit descriptions of pine trees, and a whole lot of feelings, y’all.
Relationships: Minerva/Duck Newton
Comments: 42
Kudos: 86





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This ain’t no place for no hero/ This ain’t no place for no bigger man  
> This ain’t no place for no hero/ This ain’t no place for no hero to call home  
> \- Short Change Hero – The Heavy

Part 1: 

He was always going to choose Earth. It wasn’t even a question. So, when the time came, Duck stood back and let his companions go through the doorways first. It came as no surprise that Thacker and Vincent chose Sylvain, both eager for the next chapter. Likewise, Mama returned to Earth without hesitation. Duck saw her looking around with a relieved smile, ready to get back to her beloved Amnesty.

Finally, there was Aubrey who after a moment of silent contemplation turned back to look at him. Her orange eyes were bright with tears. 

“S’okay,” mumbled Duck, as she threw herself into his arms, “Y’all will figure it out. We will be seeing each other real soon again, I promise.” 

Aubrey gave him a watery smile, and a nod, “I’m going to miss you, Duck.” 

Duck smiled back, a little tearful as well, “Me too, kid.” Feeling like now was the time for some sage adult advice or some kind of words that would make it better, he squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t get up to too much trouble over there. Okay? And give everyone my best, Dani, ‘n the rest.” 

Aubrey swallowed and nodded again. She darted up quickly to press a kiss to his cheek. With one last look and a wave to Minerva she vanished into the light. 

Then it was just the two of them. 

“Well, Wayne Newton?” 

Duck chuckled, and then sniffled a few times. He looked at the beam of light, the two doorways. “Aw, c’mon Minnie, you already know which one I am going to choose.” 

“I suppose I do, Wayne Newton.” 

There was an edge, an uncertainty, to her voice that made him turn to look at her.

Minerva had returned the massive zweihänder to it’s place slung over her back, she stood now straight as a spear, covered in the grime of battle, glorious, truly her namesake in flesh. And yet – 

“Not sure which one to choose, huh?” 

Minerva hesitated, “This Sylvain, sounds very nice, and likely more accepting of alien species.” 

“But?” 

“I should like to remain with my chosen ones…” she trailed off, seemed to gather her thoughts. “Wayne Newton, I have imposed my presence on you, and my chosen before you, for nearly your whole life. We – you – have done it, our destiny is complete. You have no need of me anymore.” 

Something in Duck twisted a little bit, catching on the sadness in her eyes. Minerva, sad? There’s something he had never even imagined was possible when all he knew was those bombastic projections of her. Not for the first time, he wondered at the strength it must have taken to spend all those years alone, waiting.

“You’re not, ah, imposing,” and he was surprised at how truthful that was. She hadn’t been an imposition for sometime now. “It’s a big Earth, Minerva, more than room enough for you.” 

She looked pensively at the doorway to the Crytonomica, and then back at Duck. “You are certain?” 

“Yeah,” and he realized he was. “Hell yeah, I mean you already got a room at mine, we’re halfway through Gilmore Girls, my cat likes ya, would be – a – a shame to miss out on all that.” 

Minerva nodded solemnly, “This is true, I have not yet determined who will be the life partner of young Rory Gilmore, nor what will become of the assorted side characters.” 

“Exactly.” And for a moment they just smiled at each other. 

On some instinct he hadn’t yet had time to question, Duck offered her his hand. As he did he took one last look around the computer room, the destroyed printer, the crystalline mist, the ceiling full of paired worlds. 

The dome and Beacon were both dark and still, purpose fulfilled. For a moment he wondered if he was supposed to collect the sword. But then what would be the point? More sass in his life? Besides, thought Duck, there was a sort of rightness in this. The sword in the stone, waiting for a new hero. 

He let out a deep breath. Fucking aliens. Aliens, the whole damn time.

Minerva’s larger hand settled in his, callused and warm. He looked up to see the smile on her face hadn’t faded, not even slightly. 

“Together?” 

“Yeah,” Duck felt his mouth lift again in answer, “Together.” 

*** *** *** *** 

Kepler was, to put it lightly, a mess. 

Upon appearing back in the Cryptonomica, Duck’s shoes crunched down on shattered glass. Smoke swirled around them as they walked out of Billy’s old room. Behind them the portal shut without a trace. Downstairs, an exhausted but jubilant crew of what appeared to be Saturday Night Dead fans helped themselves to the cola machine, and Kirby, who had an impressively bloody nose greeted them. Duck suddenly felt Ned’s absence hit him like a sledgehammer. 

“Duck! Minerva! You’re back! Mama just told us the good news,” Kirby took a long slug of his RC Cola, “Fuck, I can’t believe we beat evil space aliens.” 

“It was a mighty victory indeed!” Minerva proclaimed. And Duck couldn’t help but smile, although seeing the Cryptonomica in such a state made his chest ache. 

Kirby cackled, “You’ll have to tell me everything later – I’ve no idea how they are going to spin this one, but I’m going to make sure the truth gets out there.” 

Duck felt a heaviness begin to settle over him, adrenaline finally running out, but distantly alarm bells began to ring in his head, “Kirby, you know no one from Sylvain was evil –“ 

“I know, I know,” Kirby interrupted him, “Don’t worry, Duck, that’s not what I meant. Ned died saving them. I would never dishonour him like that.” 

Duck nodded slowly. Another thought flitted into his tired brain, “Where’s all the Sylvans now? The spell-casters ‘n such?” 

“They left a while ago – the moment all them red things stopped coming, the – uh – Mothman stopped by, he said they needed to go to the archway.” 

Minerva, still holding his hand, gave it a squeeze, probably a little harder than intended. Duck tried not to wince. “Do not worry, Wayne Newton, those that wanted to return did so before we destroyed the doorway.” 

“Okay, okay.” 

Kirby tossed him something, “You look dead on your feet, Duck, here borrow this, and get yourself to bed.” 

Duck caught what he realized were the keys to the Crepes by Monica van and nodded gratefully. 

From the road, the devastation of Kepler was even more apparent. However, as he drove the van slowly down the empty streets, avoiding bits of rubble, all Duck could bring himself to feel was a numb relief.

The damage passed by in snippets, through the van window. Down near the river, he could see city hall was smoking. Dan’s Humidifier Depot had it’s windows smashed in. On a side-street he could see Juno shepherding people into St. Francis Medical centre. As she caught sight of him she nodded, promising silently to check in later. 

Leo was puttering around his apartment when Duck and Minerva arrived. He was tending to a triumphant looking Sarah Drake, who seemed to have a sprained wrist. It seemed they had helped themselves to the considerable medical kit Duck had bought during his stint as a mundane. Leo brightened when they came through the door, clasping both of their hands enthusiastically. Tony, the cat, wound his way around Duck’s legs purring. 

“We’re back,” said Duck unnecessarily, but at a loss of what else to say, exhaustion was tugging at him insistently now.

“And boy are we glad,” Leo had turned around and was digging around in Duck’s fridge. “Sandwiches?” 

Minerva finally let go of Duck’s hand to cram herself into one of his kitchen chairs, examining Sarah’s wrist.

“You have earned yourself a war wound Dr. Sarah Drake! You must regale me with tales of your heroism.” 

“Yeah,” sighed Duck, as Leo unearthed a loaf of bread from somewhere. He wondered if Aubrey ever got her sandwich. Did they even have sandwiches in Sylvain? 

She’s going to be okay, he reminded himself, she’s going to be okay. 

With a groan Duck settled down into a chair of his own, feeling his over forty-year-old bones begin to protest. “Sandwiches sounds great.” 

*** *** *** *** 

By unspoken consensus, they all slept in. Even Minerva, which was a small miracle of its own. 

As far as Duck could tell, the whole town had taken a mass time-out. The only movement came from the folks who flooded in and out of the medical centre and those picking up supplied from Leo’s shop, operating on a sort of honour system. Or at least this is what Duck assumed, being as the proprietor spent the next few days mostly lounging on Duck’s couch. 

The FBI barricade was in tatters, and more importantly within a matter of days it had retracted. And with that it had coughed up Amnesty Lodge. When Duck first visited it, after a very long sleep, and a leisurely breakfast of cereal (him) and six eggs (Minerva), he was taken aback by the sheer wave of relief he felt.

It was still here. Not everything had changed. 

The barricade must have proven to be a blessing in disguise, thought Duck, as he made his way up the front steps. From what he could tell, the Quell had mostly left unoccupied buildings alone, so with Amnesty evacuated there had only been minor damage. 

The lights inside were back on, and a surprising number of Sylvans were sitting in the lobby. Moira was at the piano. Jake was lounging on sofa, waxing his board, and Barclay was sitting with Mama sharing a Lamplighter and a carafe of coffee. Duck also spotted Detective Dewey, reconstituted, and fiddling nervously with a new wristwatch. 

Used to entering and leaving most places unobtrusively, he was surprised at the cries of welcome that greeted him as he stepped through the door frame. A few Sylvans he had never met rushed over and pressed their hands against his. Jake had let out a whoop of happiness and even Moira had left the piano bench to hug him. 

Mama smiled and poured Duck a cup of coffee from the carafe. “Seems word got around about your little adventure to the heart of Sylvain.” 

Duck sank with a sigh into the seat opposite her and settled his cap onto his knee. “So it would seem.” He looked around the homey lobby again, “I’m glad this place got through alright.” 

“Me too,” Mama smiled contentedly, “There’s going to be some major improvement coming up soon though, place is long overdue for some renovations.” 

Barclay lowered his Lamplighter and gave Duck a conspiratorial grin. “Amnesty seems to have come into a good chunk of money. A generous donation from the FBI, for uh, damages rendered.” 

“About the least they could do.” Duck had to push down the surge of anger he still felt everytime he recalled the state they found Mama in. “Pretty sure y’all have a case for a few human rights violations.”

“Agreed,” Mama sighed, “But Agent Stern has been very helpful.” She took a long sip of her coffee, and Duck noticed Barclay had returned to his Lamplighter with great interest. 

“Any idea how they’re gonna to spin this?” 

They both shook their heads, Mama sighed again, “I just hope they are gonna start letting tourists come in soon, local businesses can’t take this kind of thing much longer.” 

“Although,” added Barclay, “From what I’ve been seeing, Kepler’s been on every news channel in the country, I don’t think we are going to have troubles attracting visitors after this.” 

Duck tried not to grin, thinking of Sherif Owen’s reaction to this town suddenly being flooded with alien enthusiasts. 

“Say, there Duck,” Mama got to her feet, groaning a bit, “Where’s Minerva and the rest today?” 

“Helpin’ with the rebuilding,” Duck half-smiled.

Minerva was not built for relaxing. After a few anomalous days spent hanging around Duck’s apartment (mostly destroying him and Leo at chess – a game she took to with an alacrity that was as impressive as it was unsurprising), she had been practically vibrating with pent up energy. 

She and Sarah had enthusiastically taken Juno up on her request for helping hands when she had shown up at Duck’s apartment that morning, looking determined but a little worse for wear. 

“Bunch of the state rangers, them that Juno called in, stuck ‘round and are starting to put things back together.” Duck, shook his head, still awed at how Juno had managed to convince them to come and fight. “I’m heading down in a bit too, they got crews on the Crytonomica and the Hornet’s Nest today.” 

Mama nodded, “I don’t think we’ll have trouble rustling up a a few volunteers.” She clapped both him and Barclay on the back, “I’ll see y’all in a bit.” And Duck and Barclay watched her make her way to the office, a bit stiffly, but looking lighter than she ever had. 

“So,” began Duck once Mama was out of earshot, “Agent Stern, huh?” 

Barclay choked on his coffee. 

Duck grinned, “Now, I am just sayin’ that is some kind of ironic that there.” 

Barclay glared at him, the effect was rather ruined by a splotchy blush that was making its way up from his collar and a small smile threatening to appear at the corners of his mouth. 

He got to his feet too, mug in hand. “Always nice to see you too, Duck, anything else I can get you?” 

“No, no, just thought I would stop in – actually – “ Duck had a thought, “Could I use your phone? The Quell messed up the line to my building.” 

“Of course.” And with a nod, still a bit red in the face, Barclay retreated to the kitchen.

Duck made his way to the old red dial-up hanging on the wall. Someone, Duck suspected a certain Aubrey Little, had stuck a sticker depicting the outline of the Mothman and the words ‘The Truth is Out There’ to the handset. Duck chuckled quietly to himself, then sighed.

The number out to his sister’s cell was one he had memorized, but he dialled it slowly, hoping that she had made her way back in the country by now. 

She, of course, picked up on the first ring, “Wayne Douglas Newton,” Jane exclaimed as soon as the line connected, sounding so much like mom Duck almost winced.

Then he couldn’t help the relieved grin spreading across his face, “Oh Christ, Janey, don’t you start with me.” 

“How?! How is it that the first I hear that the FBI has taken over our whole goddamn town, is not from my dearest brother, who lives there, but from CN-fucking-N?”

“Aw, c’mon –” 

“Duck…” 

“Yeah,” Duck let out a huff of laughter and leaned against the wooden paneling of the lodge. “Fair ‘nuff, but let me say, you wouldn’t believe the half of it if I told you. And besides I didn’t want to bother you, not when you were out there saving the world.” 

He heard her sigh on the other end of the call, and when she spoke again he could tell she was smiling too. “I’m coming to see you, Duck, just as soon as they open up the roads. Then you can tell me everything.” 

“Okay,” Duck thought about his office. More specifically, he thought about the pullout bed in his office where Jane usually stayed when she had visited in the past. The bed currently occupied by all seven feet of Minerva, a being from a literal other planet, and resolved to deal with that later. “Okay, but I want to hear all about your stuff too.” 

“Fine,” Jane laughed, “It’s good as hell to hear your voice, Duck.” 

“You too,” And with that, Duck finally managed to put to bed the ghost of a fear that had been haunting him since he had seen her doppelgänger in that alien printer thing. “You too.” 

When he arrived at the Crytonomica, with Barclay, Jake and most of the other Amnesty Lodge residents in tow, it was to the sight of Minerva single handedly lifting a felled tree off one of the museum’s walls. 

Barclay let out a low laugh as Duck firmly resisted the urge to bury his face in his palms. 

“I’m – ah – I’m going to have to remind her about that.” 

Barclay laughed again, and they heard the shouts of greeting from crew working around the shop as the lodge residents hopped out of Mama’s truck bed. “I figure folks here have seen stranger things then one very strong lady.” 

And sure enough, although Duck could see some the group casting covert looks at Minerva, most of them just seemed to be going about their work. 

Minerva strode up to them, once she had disposed of the tree, and greeted them both with a hearty “Wayne Newton, Barclay of Sylvain it is good of you to join us!” 

Barclay turned to Duck eyebrows raised, silently mouthing ‘Wayne’ an expression of profound amusement slowly spreading across his face.

Duck firmly resisted the urge to grimace. He was going to have to talk to Minerva about that. 

Oblivious to this interaction, Minerva beamed down at them both. She had traded in the monk’s garb and sandals she had arrived in for a flowery pair of flowing pants thrifted from a local second-hand store. She was also wearing one of Duck’s Monongahela National Forest T-shirts which stretched tightly across her shoulders and hit her just above her belly button. Or it would have, if she had one. 

Duck pushed that alarming observation away as fast as possible. Not to say, of course, that the whole thing wasn’t sort of a good look. But Duck didn’t care to examine that one any further either, so he merely smiled at her and then made his way over to a sweaty looking Juno, who grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“We’re making quick work of it, Duck. Leo and Sarah are over with B Crew at city hall – tell me are all of your friends crazy strong or - ?” 

“Yeah, about that –“ Duck scratched the back of his head nervously, “I – uhm – we all go to – uh – this… gym, and ah – Shit. Um – “ 

Juno laughed at him, and then mercifully cut him off, “God, you suck at lying Duck. It’s okay Minerva told me the gist of it.” 

“Oh thank god.” 

“Can’t believe I’ve been working with The Chosen One this whole time.” Juno shot him a cheeky grin.

Duck rolled his eyes, “A chosen one, and let’s just go ahead and never bring that one up again.” 

She laughed again, “You got it boss.” 

“Not for long,” Duck took in the crew working away in the afternoon sun, a few hours and the Crytonomica almost looked back to normal. He could even see a one of his buddies from the Greenbriar forest service putting in new windows under the watchful eye of Kirby. “You done one helluva job here Juno.” 

She beamed, “Thanks Duck.” And then her smile dimmed a little, “I’m just glad it is all over though, I can’t wait to be a forest ranger again.” 

“Me either,” Duck surveyed the scene again, and caught himself thinking longingly of the forest. The little streams and meadows he visited each day, the hours spent cataloguing growth and diversity, even of busting non-compliant campers and littering hikers. “Me either.” 

The rest of the day passed amicably, and easily, with Duck working side-by-side with Barclay. The sun was out, so the two of them were mostly focused on putting a fresh coat of paint on the outside of the building. 

He had answered fewer questions than expected, it seemed that Kirby was true to his word and the daily Lamplighter had pretty much caught everyone up without naming too many names. All around him, he could hear Kepler townsfolk and rangers alike trading stories about aliens and monsters as easily as they might have talked about football and the latest episode of Survivor. 

The only thing they didn’t seem to have consensus on was –

“So, that’s one hell of a lady,” said Ron, one of the veterans of the Greenbriar forest service. He sidled up to Duck, wiping some sweat from his forehead, just as Duck was putting the final touches on some new eaves-troughing. Ron gestured to Minerva who was unloading flats of drywall in stacks of ten, the whole pile balanced delicately over her head. 

Duck instantly resolved to say as little as humanly possible. 

“Mhmm.” 

Beside him Barclay snickered. 

“She one of them, uh, aliens too I assume?” 

Duck gave a noncommittal shrug. 

Ron seemed to take this as confirmation enough, “Shame about the portal thingy being shut and all that” he said finally, “Forest service could use about a couple hundred more of her – you hear about the situation in Brazil?” 

“No,” replied Duck honestly, gratefully leaping onto the new conversation topic, “What’s going on?” 

“Wildfire season,” Ron shook his head mournfully, “I hear talk that it is going to be bad this year, and not to mention there’s a huge amount of illegal burning going on the side. I got some buddies thinking about starting a bit of a thing down there, just looking to help out the locals.” 

Duck surprised himself with the spark of interest he felt at those words. He, of course, loved all forests, but usually the troubles of far off countries felt too distant for him to want to do anything.

“Let me know if anything comes of that,” he found himself saying, to his absolute shock. 

Ron looked a little surprised too, but also pleased. “Sure thing, Duck, we would be glad of your help. Juno’s involved too, so I am sure you will be hearing from her.” 

Duck nodded, and Ron clapped him on the back before turning to Barclay. “And you young man? Interested in saving the trees?” 

Barclay chuckled lightly, “I’m not much of one for travelling, to be honest, but –“ and he sent Duck a very subtle wink, “I did used to do a lot of camping ‘round this area.” 

“Excellent!” And that was apparently all it took. Duck half listened to the two of them chattering, caught in thought. Brazil? What on earth had come over him? His whole life was here, his cat, his ships, Minerva. Brazil? Duck shook his head, hoping to clear it. 

As if summoned by his thoughts (god he hoped that wasn’t the case) Minerva appeared at his side, glowing from exertion, but without a drop of sweat to be seen. 

“Wayne Newton, this is most excellent work! Ranger Juno Devine has requested we complete a ‘sandwich run’ next. Tell me, what kind of quest is this?” 

Duck wondered if Juno had gone temporarily insane, putting Minerva on this task. But then he had been doing a pretty shitty job of being an Earth tour guide, this was something she would have to learn. 

Duck put down his paintbrush, squinting up at her in the sun. “Sure thing, we can hit up Terry’s, it’s a little café by the water there. Best spot for sandwiches in town.” 

Which is how Duck found himself crammed into a tiny booth with Minerva watching her eat her first ever panini. 

“This is most excellent Wayne Newton, very portable!” 

“Yeah, sure is, look,” Duck shifted a little in his seat and accidentally pressed a knee into Minerva’s thigh, “You mind calling me Duck? Just around everyone else? I don’t mind you calling me Wayne, just Wayne, but maybe when it’s just us to? And friends?” 

“Of course,” Minerva’s joy seemed to dim slightly, and Duck instantly felt bad, “My apologies, I am becoming aware that your Earth has many customs I will have to adjust to.” 

“Aw, it’s alright Minnie, really don’t worry about – in fact forget I said anything.” 

She took another bite of the panini, clean, and measured. Duck wondered, not for the first time, what the food situation must have been like on Five. As far as he could tell Minerva never left even so much as crumb behind when she ate. “Why do people only call you Duck? Wayne seems like a perfectly fine name.” 

“It’s – ah – sort of, silly, well my mom you see, she named me after this like cheesy – uhm – singer? I guess? So, I started using Duck pretty early on.” 

“I see, you don’t wish to be associated with this person then?” 

“Yeah, kinda.” 

“This makes sense. I too was unaware when I chose the name, that Minerva was associated with one of your gods. It made for some confusion initially.” 

Duck paused mid-bite, “Minerva isn’t your real name?”

“No.” She smiled, “My real name is quite unpronounceable in your language, I assure you. But, no one has called me by it in hundreds of your Earth years.” 

Right. Because they were all dead. Duck was starting to feel a little bad again. Christ, he had been a selfish asshole. Leave it to him to never even try to get to know her in the over twenty years she visited him.

“I’m real sorry about that, Minnie I am.” 

“It is as it is.” She waved a massive hand, “I have had a very long time to come to terms with my actions, and Minerva is not entirely an inappropriate name.” She paused, “I have even grown to accept… what is you call me – Minnie?” 

Duck snorted, “Sorry ‘bout that, I can stop if you want. It’s just awful formal that’s all, we don’t really go around calling our friends by their full names.” 

Minerva seemed to think on that information. “I don’t mind,” she replied finally, “Although perhaps if only you only use it in confidence as well.” 

Duck looked up from his sandwich a little surprised. 

“We did not use shortened names in my culture,” she explained, before rubbing a hand down the back of her head – something Duck was beginning to realize as a bit of a nervous tell. “Not unless, the two people were very – hm – intimate?” 

“Oh jeez,” Duck was mortified, “I didn’t mean to cause offence, I –“ 

Minerva smiled again, back to her usual brightness, “It is alright… Wayne…” she seemed to roll his name around in her mouth a little, as if trying to get a taste for it. Duck wasn’t quite sure if she liked it. “I think nearly twenty years of companionship counts for something, if not exactly the type of intimacy that is usually meant.” 

Duck still felt a little red about the cheeks, but nodded. 

“Besides that,” Minerva continued, “You are no longer my ward, but my equal as Herald, so it is much less inappropriate.” 

“Right,” Duck had nearly forgotten in the heat of the moment, that whole insane day. Him kneeling at Minerva’s feet, sword on his shoulder. “So, Herald, I been meaning to ask, what exactly does that involve?” 

“Well, now nothing,” Minerva sighed, “But, before, were we living on Five, you would have been elevated to my right hand. We would have sat upon war council meetings together, and if we were in peacetime we would have been in charge of organizing great contests of sport and training new warriors.” 

“Wow,” Duck scratched the back of his neck, a little overwhelmed, “Well, I’m, uh, honoured. Truly.” 

Minerva finished off the rest of her panini with gusto. “It is an honour you have earned, although I can see from your expression not one you would have relished.” 

“Perhaps not,” Duck chuckled, and waved down Cathy, Terry’s wife, who had appeared from the kitchen with a few trays of sandwiches. “I’m not much of one for committee meetings and all that.” 

Minerva hopped to her feet. “I have begun to think that it is people who feel that way who should be on committees, it might have resulted in briefer meetings.” 

Cathy arrived, pulling Duck into a friendly hug, and shaking Minerva’s hand with a sort of confused awe that Duck had come to realize was most people’s default upon meeting her. Without asking, Minerva picked up the heaviest of all of the trays and a flat of colas and headed out the door, leaving Duck with a only a few napkins and plates. Cathy gaped after her and Duck had to bite down on his cheek to hide his grin. 

“Although,” Minerva continued, once they had gotten back into their borrowed forest services truck, “It wouldn’t have been all meetings either. We used to lead great explorations. My planet was smaller than yours and much less green, but still there was many things to see.” 

“Well,” said Duck, “I’m afraid I won’t be much good for that either. I’ve never been much place other than West Virginia. Cincinnati a few times to see my sister, the sea – but – “ he shrugged. Coupled with his weird Brazil moment from earlier he was suddenly feeling a bit inadequate. 

Minerva examined him, with more scrutiny than he was necessarily expecting from her. “Don’t sell yourself short, Wayne Newton.” 

Duck chuckled, a bit uncomfortable, and then came to another unpleasant realization. 

“Shit, Minnie, I haven’t been keepin’ you all cooped up here have I? I mean, I am happy to help if you want to explore a bit more – I mean we will need to get you ID’s, but I bet Mama could help – And I don’t know about money, but I am sure we could get something going. I have enough stowed away –“ 

Minerva, blessedly, interrupted him, “Thank you, Wayne Newton, but I am content at the moment. It would perhaps do some good to procure these... ID’s? In the case I need to be mobile again.” 

“For sure,” Duck nodded, “I’ll talk to Mama soon as I get a chance.” 

There was something a little clutching and strange in his chest, something that had appeared as soon as the thought of her leaving came to mind, but he decided to pass it off as a spot of indigestion. 

Their return to the work site was greeted with cheers, and Minerva instantly set herself to the work of fashioning a few tables from barrels and salvaged lumber. 

One by one the volunteers settled into shady areas, eating and laughing. Duck watched, leaning against the truck, as Minerva was slowly surrounded folk’s curiosity winning over. He could even see a few of the rangers setting up what looked to be an arm wrestling contest and instantly pitied them.

Something in him sighed in relief though, as he saw Juno laughing and clapping Minerva’s shoulder. As the group broke out into cheers when she flattened Brad from Pocahontas State Forest with such little effort that his whole body went flying to one side.

She fit in. 

Sure enough, there would always be stares and the bald head and tattoos were more than a little striking, but she fit in. She wouldn’t have to be an outsider like Indrid, living in his little Winnebago. 

“Duck! Duck!” Juno was calling his name, “C’mon, you gotta give it a try – surely your chosen one powers count for something.” 

“No way.” Duck couldn’t help but grin, as Minerva raised a challenging eyebrow at another ranger who had settled across from her. “Anything that I have is loaned from her.” 

Juno, let out a low impressed whistle, “Wait, you mean she would be even stronger –“ but she was cut off by the group’s cheering and laughter as Minerva sent another one tumbling to the ground. 

They were both tired and grimy by the time they made it back his apartment. Minerva was jubilant. It had taken no short amount of time, once her physical dominance was established, for the townsfolk to start recruiting. Minerva had, in her hand, a copy of the Kepler Intramural Sports Schedule, with an invitation to practice nearly every team in town.

“Do you play any of these, Wayne Newton?” she had asked, radiant with joy, as Duck had started to rustle together a quick stir-fry. 

“Ah, a little ball hockey now and then,” Duck smiled a bit ruefully, “I haven’t been good about going lately.” 

This did not dim Minerva’s enthusiasm even slightly, “Will you teach me?” 

Duck paused, halfway through chopping a pepper, and looked at her.  
  
She was lounging on his couch, dangling precariously off all sides of it, her eyebrows creased in concentration as she read the schedule. Tony, the cat, although initially distrustful, was curled up on her chest, having realized recently that this location on Minerva, large, warmer than the average human, and presumably soft was the ideal place to be. 

Duck felt that strange clutching thing again. 

“‘Course, Minnie.” 

*** *** *** *** 

He had been having strange dreams. Not prophetic ones, thank fucking Jesus. But strange, and after being woken in a cold sweat, plagued with visions of cities crumbling and streets full of terror, he was coming to realize they weren’t exactly his. 

It was still dark when he finally gave up on falling back asleep again, and the clock read 3:00 AM. As Duck, made his way to the kitchen, quietly as he could, he was only half surprised to see Minerva. She was curled up, cup in hand, on his couch. Minerva had an inordinate fondness for blueberry tea, of all things, and he always made sure to keep a large supply. Duck guessed this was when she was drinking it all. 

As she heard him approach, he watched her shoulders instantly square, and her head snap up to a more alert position. “Good morning, Wayne Newton! I was just completing my morning meditation.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” said Duck, and then instantly regretted his lack of tact. 

Minerva merely blinked in surprise. 

“It’s just – ah –“ Duck sighed, “I get them too, your dreams.” 

She looked aghast. “Wayne Newton, I am so sorry – Leo Tarkesian and Dr. Sarah Drake – they have never mentioned this – “

“It’s no biggie,” Duck tried for an air of casualness, “It’s just little snippets, nothing – uhm – that concrete really.” 

It was very clear this did not have the intended effect of reassuring her. Minerva’s shoulders slumped. 

“The things you must think of me, Wayne Newton,” she said finally, soft and ashamed. 

“No! Hey – I don’t – “ Duck struggled for words, and then, because it was 3AM and because he couldn’t figure what else to do, he gave into his impulse to take her hand. As always she was running a few degrees warmer than him. 

He settled down next to her on the couch, it was a tight fit, and it creaked ominously under their shared weight.

The moonlight caught on her tattoos, and for the first time he noticed they matched the vivid, glowing, blue of her eyes. 

“You did, what you thought you had to, okay?” Duck said finally, “I can’t say I would have done any different, in your place.” 

“You already have,” she replied, voice uncharacteristically soft. “You saved that abomination. You are far kinder that I ever was.” 

“Well,” Duck shrugged, “It’s different, that was just one goat man, not my whole planet hanging in balance.” 

“Still,” and to his great horror, he heard her softly sniffle.

A single tear, seemingly phosphorescent in the moonlight, slid down her cheek. 

Duck reached out to wipe it without thinking, and caught the droplet on his fingertip. 

Minerva blinked in surprise at his touch, and Duck hastily apologized. “Sorry, I – uh – didn’t mean to – uh – sort of a human thing, I guess?” 

“It has been,” she said, softly, but quite matter of factly and without even the slightest hint of self pity, “A long time, since anyone has comforted me.” 

And confound it all if that didn’t just tug on Duck’s heart in all sorts of ways. Awkwardly, and despite the fact he had already been more demonstrative with Minerva, his former mentor, in these last few minutes than anyone short of his little sister in years Duck pulled her into a hug. 

The couch made more protesting noises, and there was a lot of leg, mostly hers, to contend with but once they settled, Duck suddenly found it very difficult to let go. 


	2. Part 2

There were a lot of things one learned, living with an alien. 

Hell, there were a lot of things one could learn just living with another person, and lord knows, it had been years since Duck had done that. The two months with Aubrey alone had been a damn revelation. 

But with Minerva, there were the additional moments. Flashes, unsettling, but not necessarily in a bad way of her otherworldliness. Reminders that things were not entirely as they seemed. 

The nightmares were one thing, but in addition to that Minerva didn’t seem to need much sleep at all. She was always awake when he excused himself to his bedroom at night, and she was always up before him, even after he started getting up earlier for work. Often he would see her and Leo sitting together in the morning on the front steps, he with his coffee, she with her tea, deep in discussion. Other times, he would see her out on the grassy lawn behind his apartment, raining powerful blows down on imaginary foe after imaginary foe. 

Minerva seemed to enjoy all Earth foods indiscriminately. She told him, when he had finally asked, that on Five she lived mostly off of stored emergency rations laid down by her civilization prior to attack. Even before the war though, fruit (or their approximation of it) had been a luxury due to the aridity of the planet, somewhat explaining her yin for blueberry anything. She always ate quickly as well, as if she would be called away from her meal at any time. Their dinners often lasted mere minutes. Duck was reminded of the Rangers he had worked with, the ones who had served before joining the forest service, ex-Marines and the like, they all ate with the same ruthless efficiency. 

She was scrupulously neat, and monastic. Again not terribly surprising, but even once Duck had explained money to her and Mama had given her access to an modest account she had set up for all newcomers to Earth, Minerva showed no interest in owning things. The only thing she had gotten was books, most notably, a thrifted complete 32 volume collection of the Encyclopedia Brittanica.These she was slowly, and with great concentration devouring. 

“It is essential,” Minerva had explained when he asked, “In both peace and war, to know your context. I cannot always be a curiosity, Wayne Newton, eventually I shall need to blend in. I wish to know everything about this Earth I could possibly need – now explain to me – what is this tennis? It sounds most diverting!” 

But for the most part the days passed comfortably, the both of them sweating it out in the streets of Kepler, sometimes with the rangers, sometimes with the Hornets, and sometimes just with a random collection of folks from around town. Usually Barclay and the residents of Amnesty lodge would join; it seemed to Duck that after years of self-imposed isolation they were finally beginning to get to know the rest of Kepler. 

Evenings were for TV, sometimes at Amnesty, more often at Duck’s, catching up Minerva on all manner of cultural stalwarts, (Gilmore girls, Family Feud, Buffy the Vampire Slayer – the last of which she found riotously hilarious). It was so easy, how they slipped into their own habits, Minerva reading and Duck sitting at the counter working on his model ships, two lamps clicking on at the same time to light the darkening apartment. 

Today, however, Duck was surprised out of their usual evening routine by the sight of Minerva standing in front of his bathroom mirror.

She was frozen in place and clearly wrestling with some kind of revelation. For a horrible moment Duck was reminded of the night she had appeared in his room, immobile, unseeing. And then she blinked, dragged her hand across the back of her neck.

Duck suddenly felt like he was intruding. A silly feeling, Duck reminded himself, seeing as this was his apartment ‘n all, and she had left the door open. Then because it would probably be more weird to just stand there and gawk at her, he cleared his throat. 

“You, uh, okay there Minerva?” 

She started, as if she had forgotten where she was. 

“Indeed, Wayne N – Wayne, look.” And she gestured to her head, where on closer inspection Duck could see a dark fuzz of hair beginning to show, black and downy against her dark skin and bright tattoos.

“Well, would you look at that,” said Duck without thinking, “I didn’t know you could grow hair there.” 

She started laughing at him, which he probably deserved, “Wayne Newton, why would you think such a ridiculous thing?” 

“Well, I don’t know,” Duck was instantly a little defensive, “You don’t have a belly button, so like – “ Duck suddenly realized what that sounded like and hastened to explain, “Not that I’ve been looking or anything, but just the other day, and I got to thinking about – uhm – physiological differences and –“ 

Minerva, as usual was blissfully unbothered. “A what?” 

“Uhm, one of these?” And Duck without thinking briefly lifted the hem of his shirt to show her, already regretting this direction of conversation. 

Minerva, unsurprisingly was all curiosity and no embarrassment. “This is the remanent of your pre-birth feeding apparatus?” 

Duck blinked. “Well, that’s about the weirdest way of putting it.” 

“I did have a – belly button? However it healed a few years after my birth.” 

“What?” 

“I heal better than you, Wayne Newton. It’s where your – what do you call it – toughness comes from.” She indicated her smooth hands and arms, “You will notice I have no scars, we commemorate our battle wounds instead with marks.” And she gestured to the tattoos. 

“Huh,” said Duck, interested despite himself, “Is that why you always kept your head bald?” 

“Yes, and no.” Minerva, ran her hand over her head, almost wonderingly. “It is a sign of commitment, and affirmation of duty to my post, all those on the council must do it.” 

“Do – do – you need something to shave it with?” 

It had been a whole thing when she had arrived. Of course, she came no carrying not a single thing with her but her sword. Aubrey being Aubrey, had very quickly sought to remedy this and had led Duck on what he remembered as a both a profoundly uncomfortable and educational shopping trip. 

He still wasn’t sure what Minerva had used, from the mess of stuff he had brought back. Certainly not the make-up, which she had stared at in confusion, and definitely not the shampoo for obvious reasons, the wide variety of coconut containing skin products? Who knew? He was vigorously avoiding the topic of the tampons, which was ridiculous because he was a grown ass man… however, he was fairly certain they had razors…did she need special razors? Was her hair extra super healing too?

  
Minerva’s voice, calm and sure dragged him out of his panic spiral, “No, this is intentional.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yes,” and he saw a small satisfied smile cross her face. “My duty is done now, Wayne Newton.” 

“Oh,” repeated Duck dumbly, “Hey, that’s great, I’m, uh, glad to hear it.” A second thought occurred to him, “So, since I am – uh- Herald, does that mean I’d have had to shave my head too?” 

Minerva smiled, “I am afraid so.” 

“Oh man.” 

“Yes,” and her hand twitched almost as if she were going to reach out and then thought better of it. “It would have been a shame, Wayne Newton, you have very beautiful hair.” 

And with that proclamation she had pushed past him, down the hall. The door to the guest bedroom/ office closed behind her. 

Duck caught himself gaping after her.

Then, despite himself, he stepped up to his bathroom mirror and considered his reflection. 

The man staring back him looked pretty much the same as he always did, if perhaps a bit flushed. Stubbly, a bit tired, definitely in his forties, and powerfully built if you were being generous, a bit overweight if you were not. 

His hair was getting a long, he supposed, it nearly touched his collar now. The new conditioner Aubrey had him try had given it a healthy shine, and a bit of curl. Beautiful? The best he could say for it was that it was all mostly still attached, which for a man his age was no mean feat. 

Duck had been on the receiving end of a few strange compliments in his life, as he supposed everyone was. He had once been called a bear, and not necessarily the animal kind. Which was nice? He supposed? But beautiful? 

His reflection was wearing a slightly pleased expression. Duck harrumphed quietly and left the bathroom. Must be something lost in translation. 

*** *** *** *** 

“Wayne Newton?” Minerva’s voice filtered in from the doorway, as Duck carefully, painstakingly maneuvered the ship’s mast into position. 

“Yes, Minnie?” He asked through slightly gritted teeth. 

“Will you lead us on a ‘camping’ expedition?” 

“A what?” Duck looked up, completely losing his concentration. The mast toppled over. 

“Camping?” Minerva settled into her customary place on the couch where Tony was already waiting. “A few of my comrades in the sport of volleyball were talking about it. Apparently, this time of year is optimal for such an endeavour.” 

“Oh.” Duck looked down at his half finished ship and then gave up, “Yeah, sure is, supposed to be sunny this weekend.” 

“They also said that you would be an ideal guide, given your knowledge and prowess as a ranger.” 

Duck rather thought the fine folks of the Kepler Intramural Volleyball team would not use the word prowess to describe any part of his life. But the idea wasn’t a bad one.

He had only partially returned to duty, the park still shut down by the FBI to visitors. More often than not he found himself passing the turn off to the ranger station and trailheads with a sense of longing. 

“Well, that’s awful nice of them,” Duck heaved himself to his feet, making for the mess of pamphlets he kept on his fridge. Today was Wednesday, which meant it was take-out night. “I do know a few good spots I suppose. We can go this weekend if you like.” 

She, unsurprisingly, beamed. At some point Duck was going to have to spend time around people that were less easy to please than her and it was going to do a real number on his ego. 

“Here,” he said, to distract himself from that thought, “Help me pick what we should get for dinner, you ever heard of Indian food before?”

They had a mess of extra gear stashed in the cellar of Amnesty in the case they had ever had to camp out waiting for a monster. Duck figured that Ned’s hiking gear would likely fit Minerva around if not in length, so he headed over after dinner. 

The sun was just starting to go down when Duck jogged up to the front drive, desperate for a drink of water. Minerva had proclaimed their delivered curries as “Very pleasant!”. Duck’s mouth was still on fire, not that he was going to admit it. Of course she would be immune to spicy foods. 

The cellar was exactly how they left it, so Duck managed to worm his way into the correct part of the storage closet without much trouble. When he finally unearthed Ned’s gear from under a large pile of tarps Duck had to stifle a sigh. Ned had been a consummate hoarder, Duck should have expected the sheer amount of detritus he was going to have to sort through before the stuff was usable. 

As Duck disposed of the first pile of half eaten granola bars, ticket stubs and bits of twine in a waste paper bin, his eyes fell on Aubrey’s little magical lab.

All of her experiments were sitting out half finished. If it weren’t for the dust, he could have tricked himself into thinking she had just stepped out. That she would be back soon. That they both would be. Ned with his rich voice filling up the room and Aubrey laughing and he would just sit and listen to them – 

Uneven footsteps on the stairs, and a sudden beam of sunlight signalled Mama’s arrival. “Duck? You down there? Barclay told me you were looking for some camping gear – “ 

She came to a stop when she saw his expression. Mama sighed and then threw an arm over his shoulders, crushing him against her side. 

“Oh, Duck,” her voice was heavy, “Me too.” 

Duck swallowed a few times, and half hugged her back. “Any word from Thacker?” 

“Here ‘n there,” She squeezed his shoulder bracingly. “They’re doing real well, Duck. Happy. With all of them over there and us over here - there’s no way we don’t figure it out.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Duck’s voice was thick, he took a few deep breaths. “Sarah says she’s been making some progress over at Green Bank too. It’s just…” 

He trailed off, and Mama squeezed him again. 

“Y’all still training every other night?” 

Duck latched onto the subject change with gratitude. “Sure are,” he chuckled, “Minerva insists it’s good for the constitution. I mostly just watch now, maybe a little hand-to-hand, seeing as I don’t have Beacon anymore.” 

Mama nodded, “I been thinking, maybe, we here at Amnesty could stand with a little training too just some self-defence.” 

Duck looked over at her in surprise, “Y’all expecting trouble?” 

Mama chewed on her lip, “I’m hopin’ no. But, when the roads open up there’s going to be a lot of new folks, some maybe with a few misconceptions... I dunno, can’t hurt – right?” 

Duck agreed, “And, frankly, I think Minerva would be – uh – thrilled to have more students.” 

Mama nodded again, “I’m sure glad she stayed, sorta makes things feel a bit more safe, huh? Maybe makes things a bit more hopeful too.” 

“Yeah,” Duck smiled, thinking of the bare admiration on the faces of some of the work crew as Minerva worked beside them, tireless and cheerful, rain or shine. “She has that effect.” 

*** *** *** *** 

The morning of their camping trip dawned as sunny and perfect as promised. On their way of of town, mist was rising in silver ribbons from the Greenbriar River and the sky was a clear, eggshell blue. Duck couldn’t help humming along with the radio as he drove them down the familiar gravel road to the ranger’s station. 

Minerva was looking out the window at the river with bright eyes. “So much water, Wayne Newton, you have no idea what a luxury this would be on Five.” 

“It sure is somethin’,” Duck agreed “You should see the ocean though, I remember going to Maine when I was a kid, that’s another, uh, state, and just you wouldn’t believe your eyes.” 

“I have read much about the ocean in the Encyclopaedia!” Minerva leaned her head out of the open car window. “I can hardly wait to see it in the flesh.” 

“Yeah,” a strange sadness suddenly gripped Duck, and he had to take a few breaths to shake it off. “I’m sure you will Minerva. Maybe I’ll see if we can’t borrow Juno’s Planet Earth DVDs, watch those next. Give you a sneak preview.” 

“Ranger Juno Devine has an excellent taste in electronic media, I particularly enjoyed one with the singing nun and all of those children!” 

“Uh huh.” 

With a crunching of gravel beneath tires, they pulled up to the ranger station. It was quiet and the lights were off, Juno would be out patrolling this time of day, doing the morning rounds. 

The trees rustled in the light morning breeze as Duck and Minerva shouldered their backpacks. Duck felt his whole body relax each step he took from the truck, as if he had been holding his breath the whole time and hadn’t known it. 

Without a word they passed the wooden trail marker, and into the arms of the forest. 

For a while they walked silently, Minerva content to let Duck lead, although he imagined his pace had to be driving her insane. Despite all appearances, Duck was capable of moving fast. It was just, today, he didn’t want to. 

Their footsteps were light. Duck from long practice, Minerva moving with the grace of a warrior. Eventually, the heavy buzz of the forest replaced the alarm calls of birds, life as steady and indifferent to them as anything. Duck led them off a fork on the main trail, onto a path almost completely overgrown with pine boughs. 

After some time Minerva lifted her nose to the air as if trying to catch a scent. Then she looked down on him curiously, “You are happy,” she observed, and her voice was muted, perhaps in deference to the trees. 

“Yeah,” Duck carefully navigated a patch of mushrooms. Names came to him like old friends. Black morel. Yellow birch. Mountain laurel. Arabis serotina. Flame Azalea. “Yeah, I am.” 

“I admit, Wayne Newton, I did not understand when you put aside your destiny for this. I am still not sure I do, although it is most pleasant.” 

Duck worked his way carefully up a rocky ridge, pondering the best way to respond. They entered a clearing whose crest rose out of the trees to reveal the Greenbriar glittering silver and blue, as it snaked between the mountains. 

“Guess it started out as a place to hide.” Duck settled himself down on a rocky outcropping, slightly out of breath. “People, not just you, Minnie, mind, but people kept expecting things of me. Y’know? Not just the whole destiny thing but, everything else too. Like Duck, go to college, Duck, grow up, Duck, go to the big city, find yourself a girl, come back, have some kids.” 

Minerva was watching him curiously. Duck couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “But trees, well they don’t want much ‘cept not to be cut down or burned. And I could do that y’ know? That was doable. And then somewhere along the way I started to love it.” He shrugged, “Did you know there are trees here that have lived nearly 300 years? Precious few mind you, but still.” 

Minerva settled beside him, “On Five, those who attained over 300 hundred cycles of age would be accorded special honour. We would gather in the glass gardens and raise a new spire. When they perished their memories would be preserved to instruct the next generation.” 

“Minerva, I don’t mean to come off rude, but how old are you?” 

She looked confused, “How is it rude to ask someone’s age?” 

“It’s – ah –“ Duck struggled, somehow he figured his mother’s remonstrations that you should never ask a lady her age wouldn’t to hold up. “It’s just, I guess, it can be embarrassing for people? Women in particular, I guess, to get old? Now that I say it – sounds pretty ridiculous.” 

“Ah,” Minerva considered this, “Does it have to do with the patriarchy that Aubrey Little, the Lady Flame, often decried?” 

“Yeah, uh, now I think of it, definitely.” 

“I am approximately 150 of your earth years, 215 of my planet’s cycles.” She seemed to be amused by Duck’s slightly awestruck expression, “I was one of the youngest War Counsellors in history at only 82 cycles of age. My predecessor was killed in battle far before his time.” The amusement in her eyes faded, “I was perhaps, too young, with more time, more wisdom, I might have seen the truth of things.” 

“Well,” said Duck, trying to return some lightness to the conversation, “82, huh? Still makes me feel better for avoiding my, uh, destiny nearly half my life.” 

Minerva laughed, “You are not half done your life, Wayne Newton.” 

Duck scratched his head, “I don’t know how break it to you, Minnie, but humans don’t live that long, it’s one of them – ah – physiological differences I guess.”

“How old do you think Leo Tarkesian is?” 

“I dunno,” Duck thought about it, “He looks about 65.” 

“He is over 90 Earth years. He fought the abominations for nearly half an Earth century under my tutelage, before the gate moved. It is not only my strength and healing I have shared with you, Wayne Newton.” 

“Wait,” Duck looked up at her in concern. “Wait, does that mean – does that mean you won’t live as long?” Other alarming thought, “And you are sharing with Sarah now too – “ 

Minerva’s expression was both kind and a little distant. “It is of no consequence, Wayne Newton. But you are correct. It is not an exact exchange, but suffice it to say I am very unlikely to make it to my 300th cycle.” 

“Minerva.” 

There was moments, moments like these, when Duck remembered who he was talking to. When she wasn’t a fish out of water, or his larger than life mentor, or even this strange new Minerva who was more of a companion than anything else, Duck was reminded that she had once made choices that had governed the fate of worlds. Was reminded of how much patience it must have taken to train him and Leo, how much she had given up to help two planets. Planets she had never even been to. 

I’m sorry, he wanted to say, I’m sorry I was such a shitty chosen. I’m sorry I left you alone for all of that time. But he didn’t, although he suspected Minerva guessed along the lines of what he was thinking, because she hopped briskly back to her feet. 

“Come now, Wayne Newton, did you not say their was a great distance to traverse before we arrived at our camping location?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” and Duck accepted her hand, yanking himself to his feet. “I’m a coming.” 

“Tell me more about these trees you so admire, Wayne Newton.” 

“You sure? I’ve put whole classes of children to sleep with my tree facts.” 

“Challenge accepted!” 

“Alrighty, you asked for it,” Duck chuckled. “Well, hmm, you see, this here’s a red pine – it’s part of the old growth and –“ 

  
*** *** *** *** 

So maybe Duck had a little bit of a drug problem when he was a kid, and maybe he should have probably talked to someone about it. But he was a Newton, and Newton’s didn’t talk about things like that. They had an image to uphold, or some bullshit. So, instead Duck went on walks. 

He was 23 when he found the place he was taking them to now, and though he hadn’t heard from Minerva in months, he was strong. Stronger than anyone he knew. Strong enough to know to be nervous in town, when he was feeling out of control. Strong enough to be a little scared of himself.   
  
He remembered, still living at home, feeling that restlessness, that itch, that desire to do something stupid screaming underneath his skin. He remembered running into the woods, ignorant, overconfident, into the evening dusk, and coming across a cliff. 

A normal man would have needed a rope, but Duck fairly unconcerned with the consequences of falling just muscled his way up. At the top of the cliff was a windswept plateau, half sheltered by gnarled pines and blueberry bushes. He had watched the sun sink down over Mt. Kepler, panting with effort, and slowly felt that anxious craving leave his body. 

He had fallen asleep out there that first time, and nearly been late for work. His mom practically blew a gasket. And although he returned often, Duck had never shown this place to a single soul, not even Jane. 

Minerva made her way up the cliff face like water up a creek. Duck followed close behind. 

It was just as he remembered. The sparse grasses of the plateau were blowing in the wind, and the bushes clustered around the treeline full of berries. The sturdy pines were still perfect for a person to string up a hammock, and there was ample space to spread out a bedroll on the soft needle litter and look at the stars. The only thing that had changed was Mt. Kepler which was of course, sans peak. Duck could only shake his head looking at it, thinking of Aubrey. 

Minerva had laid down her pack and was assessing the area as if for tactical advantage. Sure enough – 

“This is a most excellent location, Wayne Newton, you have the high ground, yet a good amount of cover, and several passages for egress should a strategic retreat be required.” 

“Yeah,” Duck laid down his pack too, “It’s got the best star gazing around too. And – “ he gestured to the blueberry bushes, “built in snacks.” 

Minerva’s eyes lit up, “Would it be a conservational violation if I – “ 

Duck laughed, “I’m willing to turn a blind eye just this once.” 

The rest of the day was spent amicably, setting up camp, rolling out two air mattresses for him and Minerva, and teaching her how to pump the fiddly little camp-stove to heat up dinner. They didn’t talk that much, other than to comment on the weather, or an interesting bird, but somehow it felt right. 

They were just comfortable. Duck kept being smacked over the head with that fact, every time he looked over to see Minerva lying contentedly in the sun, or curiously examining a bit of fauna with the little field book he always carried in hand. He could do this forever. 

They had even seen a few deer, which Minerva had watched with open mouthed fascination. 

“They move so well,” she said after the deer had bounded off into the woods, “I could not have imagined such a graceful creature.” 

“I always thought they – uhm – reminded me of your fighting,” muttered Duck, before feeling like an absolute schmuck. Minerva merely looked pleased. 

Nighttime found them lying side by side on their backs, eyes on the stars. Minerva always seemed to be radiating heat, and Duck found himself comfortably pressed shoulder to shoulder with her. The breeze pushed the mosquitoes away and rustled the pines, but otherwise it was very quiet. 

Minerva seemed to be considering the constellations with great concentration. “There,” she decided after some time, “There is the system that Five belongs to.” 

“Where?” Duck squinted trying to see which cluster of stars she was pointing at. 

“There,” Minerva gently wrapped her hand around his, guiding until he was pointing at the right place. 

“Wow.” 

“On Five, after the War, when the cities went dark and I could finally see the stars, I used to spend a lot of time trying to locate Earth.” 

“Did you ever find Sylvain?” 

Minerva shook her head, “No, it is too distant I suspect. I believe this is why I was unable to contact them. The bond technology had limited range. I was lucky we were, how would you say it, practically neighbours?” 

“Minnie, I’m real sorry.” 

She didn’t ask what for, she merely let their hands fall, still partially touching to their sides. “You were simply not ready.” 

“No, but – “ Duck struggled for words, “You saw in me something, something that nobody else ever did. And I repaid you by blowing you off at every turn.” 

“I asked… much of you.” 

“Still.” 

“You have acted with honour, Wayne Newton, there is no need now for shame.” 

“Yeah?” Duck turned his head to look at her, “You too, Minnie.” And he saw her smile in the starlight. 

The silence stretched comfortably around them, and between the heat coming off her, and the singing of the nighttime creatures, Duck felt himself beginning to drift off to sleep. He roused only halfway when Minerva spoke again. 

“I want to see your whole planet, Wayne Newton, every last bit of it.” 

“You will,” promised Duck. For a moment, in the half-haze of sleep, and the magic of night air and moonlight overhead, he imagined going with her. 

*** *** *** *** 

The clearing was packed with people, but Duck was pleased to note – no fires. This was of course the only reason he, a mostly pacifist, and friend to all living things was here. In the woods. Near sundown. Surrounded by what seemed like half of Kepler. 

Certainly not to watch a wrestling match between his mentor and Bigfoot. 

Minerva and Barclay stood facing each other, Minerva brimming with excitement and bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. Barclay mostly seemed bit bashful. 

Mama stood between them, rolling her eyes at them both, but looking excited despite herself. Jake and Kirby sat nearby wearing identical expressions of glee. Hollis and a large part of the Hornet’s crew lounged against a few trees, their faces cooly disinterested. 

There was some rustling and shuffling to Duck’s left and he saw Agent Stern emerge from the woods, looking about as nervous as Duck felt. 

“Er, hi Duck,” Stern said awkwardly. He seemed a little crestfallen at finding Duck already leaning against the most inconspicuous tree in the clearing. “How’s it – uh – going?” 

At the sound of his voice, a few of the collected Kepler townsfolk turned and glared, but there was no real heat behind it. 

The FBI had been surprisingly quick to clear out in the weeks after the Quell arrived, leaving only a skeleton scientific exploration crew, headed up by Stern. Although the road blocks had remained up, there had also been a surprising amount of money ‘donated’ by the government to city hall for repairs. Duck was more than a little suspicious about what exact sort of strings that money came with, but that would be a conversation for another time. 

“Not bad, Stern, and you?” 

“Fine, fine.” Stern looked distractedly around the clearing. “A lot of people watching, huh? I thought, uh, this was just supposed to be a sparring session.” 

“Can’t imagine, why,” deadpanned Duck. 

“Fair enough,” muttered Stern, “Just wish I knew how the word got out.” 

Duck merely shrugged. They had moved their training sessions to the woods once the folks from Amnesty had joined, but with a surfeit of other activities, and the town’s gossips on high alert, it had only been a matter of time. Duck was just glad it wasn’t him fighting Minerva.

At the centre of the impromptu ring, Minerva was undergoing some sort of complicated stretching routine. She had on one of Duck’s very old t-shirts, one with the arms ripped off and a depiction of Tony Hawk and a pair of shorts that were straining against her leg muscles. Barclay was similarly dressed for exercise. They were both barefoot. 

“Okay folks,” Mama, who seemed to be getting into her role of referee, hollered over the noise of the crowd, “Don’t kill each other and all that, and if one of you taps the other three times you have to stop.” 

The both nodded. Duck could see Barclay starting to grin despite himself. Beside him Agent Stern just looked a little queazy. 

The crowd rippling with excitement, and gasped appreciatively as Barclay unclasped his bracelet and handed it to Mama. Instantly he grew a foot and a half, and sprouted a thick pelt of hair. 

He heard Stern suck in his breath from the other side of the tree. 

Duck eyed him, “Aren’t you two dating?” 

Stern blushed and stammered for a bit before giving in, “Well yes, but, still – never gets old.” 

A man from the crowd, Duck recognized Bryan from the auto shop, turned around, “20 on the big guy to win?” 

“Absolutely not,” said Duck. Stern opened his mouth, then shut it. 

They had squared off now, Minerva and Barclay both sporting massive grins. Mama blew a little tin whistle. 

What happened next was almost so fast Duck couldn’t track it. Barclay lunged, and Minerva seemingly without even the slightest effort dodged, executing some sort of flip which had her landing in an effortless crouch behind him. Silent as a leopard, she leapt and wrapped Barclay up in a headlock. He staggered, groaning, and then with a mighty heave flipped her over his head and sent her flying into a tree. 

The crowd gasped. Duck sucked in a breath despite himself, only to see Minerva rise completely uninjured and beaming. 

“Well done, Barclay of Sylvain! That was a most powerful move! Next, time if you flex your legs more, you will do more damage!” 

And so it went, the crowd getting increasingly more involved. Some of them even jumped to their feet after Minerva retaliated a swipe from Barclay with a particularly impressive roll and leg sweep combination.

Finally, Minerva’s training won out, and Barclay flat on his back, gasping and grinning, tapped against the leg Minerva was using to restrain his arms. 

Instantly she let go and offered him a hand. Barclay took it and Mama blew the whistle. The clearing was filled with applause. Duck saw Stern let out a near silent sigh of relief. 

Still hiding in the shadows of the tree, Duck stood and listened to the snippets of conversation as some of the folk in the clearing packed up, and others seemed content to just hang out and shoot the shit. 

“ – owe me 15 dollars, Janice.” 

“ – you should have seen her on the volleyball court, unstoppable, once she stopped hitting so hard the ball exploded – “ 

“ – who could believe, Bigfoot, in our town, the whole time.” 

“Apparently he’s quite the cook – “ 

“Will they be doing the same thing next week?” 

“You should have seen it, just casually jogging up Mt. Kepler. She didn’t even break a sweat – “ 

Duck saw Minerva shake free of the small crowd surrounding her, most of them seeming to want her to demonstrate moves, to approach him and Stern. Even barefoot she towered well over the both of them. The Tony Hawk t-shirt was askew, and she had a few leaves stuck to her, but she was glowing with triumph. 

For a moment, unbidden, Duck could imagine her at war. As much as he knew they both abhorred it, he couldn’t help but think how suited she must have been for it. Each strike powerful and controlled, he could imagine her enemies falling before her. And Minerva moving in that graceful way almost like a dance, each muscle rippling with energy, eyes glowing a clear, bright, blue.

And then he realized she was talking to him. 

“ – enjoy the match, Duck Newton?” 

“‘Course,” mumbled Duck, very aware of Agent Stern’s eyes on him, “You never taught me that move with the leg though.” 

Minerva grinned, “You lacked the functional flexibility W – Duck Newton! However if you wish to learn – “ 

“Okay, okay,” Duck raised his hands in defeat, “Fine. Have you met Agent Stern?” 

Minerva turned her eyes on him, and her air became slightly more frosty, “Yes, I recall, from the Earth government, although you did well to guard the gate until we arrived.” 

Stern blinked and looked a bit intimidated, which was probably appropriate, and then stammered out a thanks. 

Imperious as a queen, Minerva inclined her head in his direction, and then looked back at Duck. “Duck Newton, I will be late returning to your residence tonight. Madeleine Cobb has offered to instruct me in the art of working the wood.” 

“Oh,” said Duck, a little surprised but also pleased, “Of course, Minerva, take all the time you want. You know where the key is.” 

She smiled at him, and turned to leave.

“Wait!” And because all of his impulse control had apparently taken a vacation, Duck reached out and peeled a leaf that was half stuck to her with sweat off of one broad shoulder. “You had a – uh – leaf.” 

She smiled again, radiant, “Thank you, W – Duck Newton!” And with that she was off, easily catching up with Barclay and Mama who were heading for the truck at the edge of the forest. 

Duck looked over at Agent Stern and instantly regretted it.

“Well,” remarked the other man, pushing himself off trunk of the tree, “Doesn’t take a special agent to see you’re done for.” 

Duck, wisely, kept his mouth shut. 

*** *** *** *** *** 

Ranger Mia Florent, the newest recruit to the Monongahela National Forest Service, had to be the most blindingly competent person Duck had ever met. And he had been lab partners with Sarah Drake.

Young, eager and way more technologically savvy than him, Duck had quickly given up on the orientation he was meant to be giving her in place of watching open mouthed as she coxed their dinosaur computer into doing things hadn’t even thought possible. 

“And see,” she explained, gesturing at some sort of program that was filling a map of the forest with dots, “All you have to do is adjust the search parameters, and then the historical logging data populates.” 

“Holy macaroni,” said Duck. 

Mia grinned. 

Juno came into the station, shaking rain off the brim of her hat, and smiling widely. “Duck, are you slacking off in front of our new recruit again?” 

“Absolutely,” Duck scratched his chin and chuckled. “We keep getting ones like Mia, I’m gunna run of of things to do.” 

Mia laughed, “Coffee anyone?” 

Both Juno and Duck nodded vigorously, and Mia with another laugh made her way to the break room. 

Juno hung up her raincoat on a hook, and then settled into the office chair next to him. “Ron’s been in touch. About Brazil. Said he sent you an email.” 

“Hmm, yeah – uh – “ Duck shuffled his feet, “Must ‘a got lost in my inbox.” 

Juno laughed at him. “If you changed your mind about being involved, you can just say so.” 

Duck sighed, “I just don’t know, yet, Juno. I mean I got my job here, and…” He trailed off. 

The email had arrived a couple days back, the Monday after the camping trip. He hadn’t told Minerva about it. He hadn’t told anyone. 

They had finally gotten approval, Ron had said in the email, and government funding. A 6 month mission to Brazil to help the locals replant a particularly damaged section of forest, was he in?

“Duck, why do you think we hired Mia?” 

“Hmm?” 

“We both got approval to go, and once she’s trained up, you really think she won’t be able to handle winter season alone?” 

Juno, as always, had a point. 

“You talked to Minerva about it yet?” 

“No.” Duck sighed again. “But, she knows she is welcome at my place for as long as she pleases. Don’t see why my coming or going would matter much.” 

“Hmm.” 

Duck looked over at her, but Juno didn’t elaborate. 

When Duck returned home that day, it was to Minerva pouring over a small stack of documents: driver’s licence, birth certificate, and passport – American. Duck whistled, impressed. Even from the door there was no doubting the quality of the replicas. 

Minerva looked up as he came in. “Madeleine Cobb came by and gave me these.” She passed the papers and cards to Duck, “It seems inconceivable to me that such fragile things should denote so much authority.” 

Duck examined the cards, surprised by the wave of unsettled emotions that came over him as he did. Minerva’s face looked back at him, serious and slightly confused. Her hair had grown quickly over the last few months until it completely covered her tattoos. Other than the eyes, blue, slightly too luminous, she looked completely human. Duck wasn’t sure he liked it. 

Minerva Louise Drake, read the passport, born May 12th, 1989, in New York City. 

“Louise?”

Minerva seemed to shrug, “After Dr. Sarah Drake’s grandmother. Madeleine Cobb said this was a common Earth naming custom.” 

“We’re saying you’re related to Sarah then, huh?” 

They had discussed this before, back during the desperate two months where half of Amnesty lodge seemed to be living in Duck’s apartment. Neither Duck nor Leo had particularly good ideas of what their cover story for Minerva should be. The only consensus they had reached was that Duck should never be the one delivering it. Finally Sarah had stepped in. 

“We’ll just say she’s my cousin,” she had groaned, sizing up Minerva, “We don’t look much alike, but hell, it’s better than your two pasty asses trying to pretend.” 

“Dr. Sarah Drake has been most accommodating,” Minerva interrupted his chain of thought. She was by the stove now, stirring a pot. Their cooking lessons had been a mixed success. Minerva was not a patient chef by nature, nor was she particularly impressed with Earth’s cooking technology. “She has been teaching me her family genealogy.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes,” Minerva pursed her lips thoughtfully, “It seems my planet did not have the monopoly on senseless cruelty.” 

“No,” Duck carefully laid the documents down the the table. “No it didn’t” 

“I am grateful for my durability,” she said at last. “And I am grateful that Dr. Sarah Drake now shares it. Only –“ and her gaze flickered away and then back, “I wish I could share it more.” 

At a loss of what to say, and really what words could fix something like that? Duck just reached out, and took her hand.

  
  
*** *** *** ***

They finished the rebuilding on a Wednesday, the last thing up was auditorium of city hall. The mayor was even there and everything, to lay the last brick and all that. Minerva watched the proceedings with mild consternation – “But he did not even assist with the other bricks!”

Then the whole town got shitfaced. Or at least that’s what it felt like. A few of the rangers had gathered around BBQs set up outside of the closed down Pizza Hut, and there were fireworks from the volunteer firefighters. Duck was more than a little suspicious of those around his forest, but still. As the day wore on, the newly built Hornet’s Nest opened it’s doors and an impromptu patio. Even beyond that people just spilled out onto the streets. As evening fell even the Sheriff seemed to have given up policing people cheers-ing on the street. Kids raced up and down the block on bikes and roller skates, and a bunch of folks had parked their trucks in a row, sitting and watching the fireworks go off. Further down the way, Duck could see folks spreading out picnic blankets in the town square and along the Greenbriar. Even Muffy and Winthrop were in attendance, although it all seemed a little low brow for them.

Music, twangy and upbeat started, and Duck saw that Kirby had repurposed all the sound equipment that Ned had bought and brought it out to the main drag, where an impromptu dance had started. 

Duck leaned back against the side of a truck, watching the sparks trail across the sky, and hoped that Ned was watching this, wherever he was now. 

“Sure is something, huh?” Sarah settled beside him, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. 

“Sure is.”

“Y’know I spent my whole life imaging I was somewhere else,” Sarah laughed. “Turns out Kepler ain’t so bad.” 

“Cheers to that.” Duck raised his coffee mug to Sarah’s solo cup. 

“You aren’t drinking?” Sarah sounded surprised. 

“Yeah,” Duck chuckled, “I don’t – uh – I don’t really do that anymore.” 

“Hey that’s cool,” Sarah smiled, “Good for you, Duck.” 

“Thanks.” Duck eyed her, “Say, I got something that’s been bothering me.” 

“Shoot.” Sarah grinned clearly a little tipsy. “No – wait – let me guess – is it a chosen one thing? Are you also just like accidentally breaking things? Like everything requires just a little less strength than you thought?” 

“Oh that,” Duck chuckled, “Man, so many busted salsa jars, right?” 

“Yeah! It’s the worse and then you just have salsa everywhere like – oh well – “ 

“ – Yeah, like, this is my life now, I guess, and you can’t even eat it because it’s all full of bits of jar.”

Sarah shook her head sadly, “Just a few days ago I like hulked out and just full on crushed a computer mouse. How am I going to get my grant to cover a replacement for that?” 

“Why do you think I work with trees?” 

“Because they don’t ask questions?” 

“Hah,” Duck sighed, “You make a good point.” 

“Thank you, Duck!” 

A loud volley of cheering interrupted them before fading into the distance as Calvin Owens and some of his friends passed them on bikes. Duck was surprised to see Hollis and Jake trailing not far behind. 

“But that wasn’t what I wanted to ask, actually.” 

Sarah raised any eyebrow, “Ok, hit me.” 

“Was I a bad lab partner? No, - wait, Sarah stop laughing! I’m bein’ serious here.” 

“Sorry,” snorted Sarah, “Sorry, it’s just that wasn’t what expected.” 

Duck rolled his eyes, “Look, I am just saying I was a bit of an idiot back then, a bit more than now at least…” 

Sarah seemed to consider him, before answering slowly, “You weren’t… mean…” 

“Oh god, I was absolute shit wasn’t I?” 

Sarah laughed, and shook her head, taking another sip from her cup. “You really don’t remember?” 

“You would not believe how much of high school I spent, well, high.” 

“I would actually.” She squeezed his shoulder bracingly, “You were never cruel though, Duck. Seriously, some people really were, but you weren’t. Spacey, yeah. But mostly, you just sat there and didn’t get in the way.” 

“Well, there’s that at least.” Duck leaned his shoulder against hers briefly, “I am sorry I was so useless though.” 

“It’s okay, you made up for it amusement value – you don’t remember that time you tried to explain how to do a kickflip with a pair of forceps and a flint lighter do you?” 

“Oh Jesus –“ 

“Wayne – Duck Newton, and Dr. Sarah Drake!” Minerva seemed to materialize from nowhere to wrap them both up in her massive arms. 

“Hi Minnie – Minerva,” Duck caught himself as well, but not before he saw the interest on Sarah’s face. 

“Have you tried the ‘hot dogs’ that Leo Tarkesian is making on the charcoal barbecue grill? They are most commendable!” 

Sarah laughed, trying and failing to squirm out from Minerva’s weight, “Have you been drinking Minerva?” 

“I have! It doesn’t seem to be having any effect other than an unpleasant aftertaste!” 

Sarah caught Duck’s eye around Minerva’s torso, “Is that true? I can’t tell.” 

Duck just shrugged, very pleasantly aware of how much warmer Minerva was than the cold metal of the truck bed. 

“Hey Sarah!” and Duck recognized a couple of the folks from the Green Bank telescope, “Come dance!” 

“Do you mind?” 

Both Duck and Minerva waved her on. Minerva looked down at him with a contented smile. “Wayne Newton, I have a question – “ 

“Is it about the mayor again? Because I know I seems silly we elect leaders based on supposed verbal prowess and not actual accomplishments but – “ 

“ – Is this what they call a tailgate? I read the phrase in one of Leo Tarkesian’s magazines.” 

“You know, Minnie, it might be, it might be.” 

She nodded, satisfied, before looking back down at him. “You are cold, Wayne N – Wayne?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I suppose a bit – I should go rustle up a coat from somewhere.” 

“Here,” Minerva, agile as anything, hopped over the side of the truck to settle against one of the wheel hubs and the back windshield. She held out her arms expectantly. 

“Oh, uh okay,” Duck clambered into the truck bed, and after a few false starts he let her arrange him so he was leaning half into her, half into the truck, his back to her chest. Her arms settled lightly on either side of him and their legs got all tangled up on the truck bed floor. 

He was fairly sure he had pulled his move on a few of his girlfriends, only in reverse. Clearly, he had been getting the short end of the stick. Duck had never felt safer. 

“This is an ancient warrior technique,” Minerva informed him, “Defunct on Five for many thousands of cycles, due to the massive warming event, of course. But still occasionally utilized for cryosleep recovery in austere environments.” 

“Huh.” If Duck hadn’t known better he would have said she was nervous. But of course that wouldn’t make much sense. Minerva, nervous? Pigs would fly before that happened. “S’good.” 

And it was. Duck felt the night’s chill slowly leaving his body, and a relaxed looseness replacing it. She smelled vaguely of BBQ and the new hair stuff he had picked up for her. He hadn’t known the combination could be so nice. 

Don’t be weird, Duck, he told himself, and set his eyes on the street in-front of them. 

Someone had busted out some lights, and the road was lit with warm swirling colours. Figures danced in and out of shadow. Mama and Barclay laughing, doing some sort of square dancing. Sarah and Juno, of all people, were swaying together just a little out of time. Jake and Hollis were having some kind of dance off head spins and all. And Moria was leaning over the stereo system, taking over DJ-ing duty from Kirby. And all around them people just talking and singing, walking arm and arm. 

A new song came on, and Minerva started to hum along. She had a surprisingly sweet voice. 

Duck looked up at her, “You like this song?” 

Minerva smiled, “They play it on one of your radio stations with great frequency. It is pleasant enough, although it seems to have invaded my memory.” 

“Y’wanna dance?” Duck asked, sort of shocking himself. 

“I am not aware of your Earth dances.” 

“Frankly, me neither.” Duck struggled to his feet and hopped down from the truck, he offered her a hand, “I’ll be a, uh, learning experience for the both of us.” 

“Very well.” She took his hand, and stepped down so they were facing each other. 

“Okay,” Duck arranged her so one hand was roughly on his shoulder, and kept a hold of the other one. “So, I’m just going to hold here, and then we just step – Ouch!” 

“I am most sorry, Wayne Newton!” 

“It’s all good,” Duck extracted his foot from under hers, “Just need some practice that’s all, and here I was thinking that psychic link might be good for something.” 

“Were that the case, I would not have had spent 20 years teaching you how to sword fight.” 

“Point taken.” Duck chuckled, “Okay, here we go again.” 

It was actually kind of the best night Duck had had in a long time, as eventually the rest of the chosen crew joined them as well as folks from Amnesty. But Duck didn’t think about why too closely, and just let the moment take him. Overhead, even the stars seemed brighter than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was definitely inspired by that one dancing scene from Wonder Women, in case the ending seemed familiar. Additionally, this story has gotten a little out of hand so it may balloon to 4 parts. I have started to add in some more backstory (and I am not sure to the extent that I have accidentally contradicted canon) in particular somethings that mattered to me was sober Duck, and black Sarah Drake. Also, bothering me... can anyone remember the name of the guy that ran the CrossFit gym and Bait shop and was also maybe the mayor? 
> 
> Anyways, thank you for all your wonderful kind comments thus far, I hope you like this next part!! See y’all next week :)


	3. Chapter 3

Minerva let out what could only be described as a whoop as the truck rocketed down another country road, rocking violently from side to side.

Duck, knuckles already white from his grip on the handle above his head, just tried not to bite down on his tongue. The truck roared as Minerva gunned it around another bend in the road.

“The controls of this vehicle have a most excellent responsiveness,” she boomed over the wind howling into their open windows, “I am highly pleased!”

“That’s great Minnie,” Duck managed between the clacking of his teeth as the truck pounded through a series of potholes, “You’re doing great.”

At the end of the road Duck, could see Mama and her truck. Barclay was there too, looking a little terrified. Mama was doubled over laughing. Minerva brought the truck to an abrupt stop, and Duck nearly thunked his head through the windshield.

“Thrilling!” Minerva proclaimed. And Duck couldn’t help but smile at her excitement. “None of our vehicles rolled along the ground like this, if we used them at all.”

“You didn’t use cars?”

“Well, not much,” Minerva stepped awkwardly out of the truck, which for all it’s legroom, had forced her to sit with her knees up by the steering wheel. “It was a small planet, with less gravity than yours, and all of my people were equally fast and strong. It was simplest to run.”

“Huh,” Duck thought about it. “I guess I do that too, when it is just me.” As a point of order, he had in fact been thinking of buying his own car, since it always seemed to be him and Minerva. But if she was going to be leaving…

“What are you frowning about now, Duck?” Mama was still laughing as she approached him, “Didn’t enjoy your near death experience?”

Duck just sighed.

Later that evening, Minerva was pouring over an old World Atlas of his. “You are much farther from New York City than I presumed,” she mused. Leo was there too, nursing a soda, and engrossed in Jeopardy. Apparently they had still not managed to restore the cable in Leo’s apartment to his satisfaction.

“New York?” Duck looked up from his cutting board, eyes smarting from the onion he was cutting. “Why are you lookin’ at New York?”

“Leo Tarkesian is from there,” Minerva settled back into the couch, frowning at Tony sat directly on the atlas, purring. “He has offered to serve as my guide when he returns.”

Duck put down his knife in surprise, “You’re going back, Leo?”

“Huh?” Leo seemed to have been nodding off. “Oh! Yeah, thought I mentioned it to you, Duck. The seer stuff and all?”

As a point of order he had. Sometime back, when Duck was picking up groceries. Apparently, Indrid had left him the Winnebago and a premeditated list of instructions. Still, Duck hadn’t thought it would be happening so soon. For a moment he was uncomfortably reminded of high school, of graduation. He felt it now, the lurch in his stomach when he realized that everyone was leaving and he was just staying put.

“It won’t be forever,” Leo seemed to read something in Duck’s expression, and his tone became soothing. “Janice – you know from the post office? Well, me and her sister have worked out a sort of co-ownership deal for the shop. But I’ll still be back all the time! It’s just, you know there are people out there that need help, and I can help.”

Duck watched Minerva smile fondly at Leo. “You never were capable of remaining complacent, Leo Tarkesian.”

“That’s real good of you,” said Duck, meaning it, but… something unpleasant was still squirming around in his gut. The conversation he had with Minerva under the stars floated back into his memory.

Half a century, fifty years, Leo had fought those abominations. Presumably without complaint. And then what? The gate moved and he just accepted that he would have to move too? Uprooted his whole life for Minerva at the drop of a hat? 

It just isn’t me, Duck reminded himself, no need to feel any kind of way about it. It just isn’t him. Some people are heroes, some people are not. He knew what kind of man he was. Nothing to feel ashamed about.

“You’re always welcome to come along, Duck,” The old man was watching him, eyes a little too shrewd. “Plenty of room in that old rig.”

Duck chuckled despite himself, “Leo, you and I both know that is a flat out lie.”

“Fine, fine,” Leo raised his hands in defeat. “But the offer stands.”

Minerva was also watching Duck closely, and there was something in her posture that was way too mentor Minerva for his taste. Duck turned his back on the both of them, focussing on his frying onions.

“Where else you gunna go?” He made sure his voice was purposely light. “Maine, to see the ocean?”

“Indeed!” And he didn’t need to see Minerva’s face to hear the excitement. “Dr. Sarah Drake has also been showing me places on The Internet – I should like very much to visit these other continental land masses in one of your aeroplanes, or perhaps upon one of your large leisure boats.”

Duck tried to imagine Minerva on a cruise and the result was so hilarious it nearly shook him out of his weird mood. “Leo, we gotta get her listening to Jimmy Buffet.”

Leo guffawed, and Duck heard the two of them get into a lively discussion about music, and the specific concept of vacation music.

Duck added some spices to his onions as the talk turned to travel and then to Leo regaling Minerva of the places he had been. Duck always hated conversations like these, partially because he never had anything to contribute, and partially because it always felt like a pissing contest.

But Minerva was so sincerely interested, as she was in nearly everything, and Leo – ever the great storyteller – was in fine form.

Brazil, and the email, wormed it’s way back into his brain. He supposed it sure would be something to see the rainforest for real. To have a few stories of his own.

“- give me two- three weeks to fix up that old Winnie, and then we are on the road. I tell ya.” Leo let out a happy sigh.

Duck chimed in despite himself, “You think the barricade will be gone that soon?” He had been keeping his ear to the ground of course, but now he was back at his job Duck had mostly gone back to being blissfully ignorant to a good portion of Kepler’s gossip.

“I talked to the Sherif at the shop about it just the other day. Seems like it. Just for family and Kepler residents, to start but…” Leo trailed off with a shrug.

“Right.” Duck thought of Jane. “Well that’s something at least.”

Leo didn’t linger after dinner, pleading an early night, but Duck and Minerva stayed up, pooched out on the couch. They had started on cartoons, first Looney Tunes, and then some of the superhero ones Duck had been drawn to as a teen.

Duck wasn’t quite sure she was getting it.

“Wayne Newton, this is anatomically improbable,” Minerva frowned as cartoon Superman and some villain of the week chased each other around Metropolis.

And, “That is a very strange choice of offence manoeuvre,” as Cat-woman executed a series of slinky acrobatics. “Although her capacity for lateral movement is excellent!”

But tonight, he could tell Minerva was distracted, uncharacteristically fiddling with the remote and shifting her weight on his long suffering couch. She kept rearranging her legs where they pressed against his as if she wanted to be anywhere but beside him.

And why wouldn’t she? She had been living her for months now. On a brand new planet, and stuck basically in the same 20 or so miles. And before, on Five, hadn’t she mentioned having to stay in the same place so she could use the psychic device?

She was probably bored out of her mind with him.

“Minnie,” Duck began, as she was switching between the weather channel and Survivor, apparently tired of cartoons. “I don’t want you to stay here on my account.”

Blue eyes, inscrutable, met his.

“I know, I know you were already planning to leave and all, and obviously you don’t like need my permission – “ Duck felt himself starting to ramble, a dangerous sign by all accounts, “But, I just wanted it out there, I want you to get out there and see – well – see all there is to see, I guess.”

“I… appreciate your sentiment,” replied Minerva slowly, as if she didn’t quite know what to say. “You have been most essential in my integration here, Wayne Newton, your support is very meaningful to me.”

“I think I’m going to go to Brazil,” blurted out Duck.

Minerva looked taken off guard for a minute, but then a wide smile started to spread across her face. “This is most wonderful, Wayne Newton! Is this for the project that Ranger Ron Wilson is so vehement about?”

“He tried to recruit you too, huh?”

“Multiple times! It was starting to get a little uncomfortable!”

“Jesus, I’m sorry, nice guy and all but,” Duck raised his hands, as if to say, what can you do?

“It is understandable,” Minerva nodded to herself, her gaze on her hands and the remote. “In any war, one must find ways to encourage recruitment.”

“Right, umm,” Duck wasn’t sure where to go next. For some reason he was feeling disappointed, he couldn’t imagine what about though. “Anyways, that is what I am doing, don’t have much details yet, but it will be about 6 months.”

“It is a most worthy cause, I am pleased with this direction for you, Wayne Newton.”

“Thanks, Minnie,” Duck, searched around for something more to say, “Do you know where Brazil is? I can show you –“

Minerva jumped to her feet so suddenly that Tony startled off Duck’s lap and under a nearby coffee table. “I thank you, Wayne Newton, but I think I will engage in more of my daily fitness.”

“Now?” Duck blinked in surprise, “But it’s almost dark out.”

“I shall be cautious.” Minerva was already halfway to her bedroom, and then paused, half turning but not quite facing him, “I am very happy for you,” she repeated and then was gone.

*** *** *** ***

“Sarah, Do you, uh, I mean, does it seem like Minerva has been a little off?”

He was visiting her at the Green Bank telescope, a few days after the whole Brazil thing. Duck had made a habit of popping by figuring if he couldn’t help her work with re-establishing connection with Sylvain the least he could do was provide some company.

Sarah who was in the middle of flipping a bunch of complicated looking switches and dials paused. “Duck… what did you do?”

“Nothing! I hope. I dunno, Sarah, just looking for some insight that’s all.”

Minerva had been strangely distant since their last conversation, always up early exercising, and out late sparring. Was she just focussing on getting ready to travel?

Sarah went back to flipping switches, “And why on Earth would you think I am qualified to do that?”

“Well,” Duck scratched his chin, “Because you are real smart?”

Sarah laughed, “Okay, Duck. Fine. Minerva seems her usual self to me, but tell me, why would she be upset?”

“I dunno,” Outside, Duck could see the massive telescope oscillating slowly into place, “I guess we were talking about leaving town for a while and then I sort of said I was goin’ to Brazil?”

Sarah whistled, “You kept that one quiet, Duck.”

“Well, I wasn’t so sure I would go, to be quite honest.”

“And how do you feel about Minerva leaving town too?”

Duck shrugged, “I mean, why should it make any difference, we lived on whole different planets once. No need to make it, uh, a big deal.”

“Mhmm.”

“What?” Duck eyed Sarah suspiciously, “What’s that look for?”

Sarah opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the only telephone in the whole building. It was this intense looking thing, yellow, heavy duty, and welded to the wall.

“Trouble?” Duck asked.

Sarah frowned. “I hope not, only a few people have that number, and I am the only one on the team working tonight.”

“Welp,” Duck picked up the phone. “Go for Duck.”

“Duck?” Mama’s voice was instantly recognizable, a little more harried than usual. “What are you doing at GreenBank? Is Sarah with you? You gotta get back to town, and find yourself a tv.”

“Why?”

“You’re just, you’re gunna want to see this.”

*** *** *** ***

It seemed the whole of Amnesty Lodge was crowded around the tv in the lobby by the time Duck and Sarah made it there. Sarah had led the way, her little hatchback screaming around corners as Duck followed, listening to the radio announcers crackle in and out –

“ – announcement from the Department of Defence –“

“- expected to reveal details of the event in West Virginia –“

“ – freak accident – or something more? Finally, some of our questions are being answered.”

Both Leo and Minerva were standing towards the back of the crowd with Mama and Barclay when he arrived. Stern was looking more tense than Duck had ever seen him. He had both the landline of Amnesty and a bulky looking, clearly sup’d up, government issue cellphone to his ears.

The jingle for the news at 6 came on, and the whispers and muttering around the room instantly stopped. Duck caught Minerva looking at him, and moved closer to her.

“It’s gunna be okay,” he wasn’t quite sure which one of them needed reassurance more. Surely, there couldn’t be any more threat – the doorway was closed, no more visitors. Duck looked around the room, no visitors except the ones already here.

Minerva merely nodded in acknowledgment, gaze already back on the tv.

A woman in a staid grey suit had stepped up to the podium. She cleared her throat before rustling some papers.

“I am Kathrine Desjardins, Director of the Department of Defence,” she began, clearly reading a prepared statement, “A month ago, a branch of the FBI was dispatched to Kepler, West Virginia, to investigate several anomalous events including but not limited to a sinkhole, and several – uh – structural changes to Mt. Kepler –“

On his other side, Mama snorted, “Understatement of the century there.”

“ – Investigations revealed what our scientists believe to be a spatial rift, taking the form of a stone archway. During our operations, this rift was successfully closed, after several more anomalies put the wellbeing of this town at risk.”

Leo let out a low whistle, “Duck, I think the FBI is about to steal all your thunder.”

“Good riddance.”

“The question, of course, that has been on everyone’s mind, is what sort of entities, if any have we encountered when this rift was open. There have been numerous requests to confirm the identity of these entities. ” She paused, and Duck could feel the tension in the lodge ratchet even higher.

“While we can confirm that prolonged contact with multiple entities has occurred, it is clear they do not mean us any harm.”

A few of the residents sent teasing looks at Barclay and Stern. Throughout the course of the press release, it appeared that Barclay was trying to get Stern to release the strangle hold he had on the Amnesty handset.

Barclay and Stern both turned a little pink as they caught Jake mouthing the words ‘prolonged contact’ and waggling his eyebrows at them.

“As for the identities of these beings,” the tension returned to the room instantly. And for a second a horrible vision of the future, one Duck had scarcely allowed himself to imagine, a life on the run from xenophobic nut-heads with pitchforks flashed before his eyes.

The director continued, “Those identities will remain concealed for the safety of those in question. While the containment around Kepler will be descalated over the next few days, all citizens should be aware that attempting to engage in conflict with, identify, or harm any of these entities will result in punishment commensurate with that any other American citizen. Questions?”

The tv exploded with voices, as the camera panned to a mass of reporters waiting just out of the camera line. Beside him Duck saw Leo nod to himself, as if several things had just slotted into place for him. Minerva just let out a breath, long and slow. And it was only because he was standing so close to her that he could see she was shaking.

Without a word to anyone, she stepped out of the lobby and out to the back of the lodge. All around the rest of the room the lodge residents were talking, some relieved, some still suspicious. Mama and Moira were deep in discussion. Barclay seemed to be serving Stern, now divested of both of phones, a mug of tea.

Duck went to follow Minerva and then hesitated. They were going to be parting ways soon, was it really his place? It was different, late at night, when the whole world seemed narrowed down to just the two of them. What was he supposed to say anyways? I’m sorry that we figured this out too late? I’m sorry that the survival of my planet came at the cost of yours?

Leo clapped a hand over his shoulder, as if he had sensed Duck’s indecision. Which, hell, maybe he could, what with the new weird seer powers.

But Leo didn’t offer any sage insights into the future, or recommend any next steps. He just smiled, wrinkled and comforting.

“You’ll figure it out soon, Duck.”

*** *** *** ***

They opened the roads to Kepler at 8:30AM sharp. Duck was waiting by the door plate of cookies in hand when the knock came, a sense of doom hanging over him.

She had arrived. 3 hours and 15 minutes after road opening. Duck had long since learned never to underestimate the power his younger sibling.

“Duck!” Jane cried as soon as the door opened, “It’s so fucking good to see you.”

Duck grinned despite his anxiety, and let her chatter all the way into his apartment, lavishing Tony with attention before stopping dead in her tracks.

“Duck!” She was looking around his apartment, eyebrows raised. Duck knew that tone of voice well enough to brace himself. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” Duck croaked, “I don’t have a girlfriend, Jane – “

“Oh really?” Jane cut him off, “Blueberry tea on the counter? You hate fruit flavoured teas. An argon oil shampoo bottle in your recycling? Last year, you didn’t even know that shampoo and conditioner came separately. What’s more you shaved really well – and, and there is no way you can convince me you started reading the Encyclopedia Brittanica.” She gestured to the volume Minerva had left open on the table – the entry read ‘Horse’.

“What does my beard have to do with it?” Duck grumbled, alarmed at having been read so easily.

Jane rolled her eyes, “You always miss a spot under your chin, the only time you don’t is if you are paying extra attention, and if you are paying attention then you are definitely trying to impress someone.”

“Jesus,” Duck sighed, “I could never get anything past ya could I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hold on,” Duck just then had a chance to look at her properly and caught a glitter on her left hand. “What’s that you got there?”

Jane laughed, “Took you long enough.”

“I was a little busy being Sherlock Holmes-ed by my own sister.” Duck couldn’t help but grin however and rushed to pick her up in hug. “I can’t believe Luis finally got around to it, congrats sis.”

“I know,” she smiled into his neck, “I thought I was going to have to do it myself, but when we came back from Honduras, he took me out to this real fancy place and –“ she let him go with a laugh that was a little tearful. “I wanted to tell you Duck, but then everything went crazy and –“

“It’s ok Janey,” Duck felt himself getting a little misty too, “Dad would’ve been so damn happy. Mom too.”

“I know, I know.” She wiped her eyes. “Ok, enough about me. I want to know everything, I was driving, and, Duck, is that the top of Mt. Kepler in the river? Was that the aliens? Also - how did you convince a woman to date you, let alone move in with you during an alien invasion? ”

Duck pulled her towards his couch, tussling her hair on the way, dodging her instinctive swat. “Stop that, I don’t have a girlfriend Janey, it’s just – ah – it’s just Minerva.”

“Who?”

“She’s all mixed up in it. Here,” Duck thrust the plate of cookies he had made at Jane. “Eat these. Peanut butter chocolate chip. Also, you’re gunna want to be sitting down for this.”

The sun was starting to hang low in the sky by the time Duck and Jane made their way to Amnesty Lodge. Jane had taken it quite well, all things told. But he could see she was still digesting everything he had said as they made the drive up the way.

In a moment of foresight, one that Duck was actually quite proud of, he had asked Mama if she and Minerva could spend the day together. He figured it best not to immediately overwhelm Jane, with the knowledge his roommate was his alien destiny mentor just in case his explaining went poorly. But when it came to places to stay, well, Amnesty was about the only place Duck trusted with his sister.

The renovations had gone well. Mama had thrown all of her energy into sprucing up the place, now that she didn’t have to worry about fighting inter-dimensional monster. She had replaced the roof and redone the siding. Duck could see the trims of the windows had all been painted an inviting blue. All along the front walk, the garden was flourishing under Moria’s care, and the window boxes overflowed with Barclay’s herbs and aromatics.

Jane let out an appreciative sigh as they hopped out of the truck, “I can’t believe we never came here Duck, I mean I knew this place existed, but – “ she cut herself off. “I guess that was all by intention, huh?”

“Yeah,” Duck paused at the door, feeling it swing smoothly on freshly oiled hinges, “But things are changing now.”

Inside, the lobby was as bright and inviting as ever. Moira tinkled away at the piano. Jake and a few Hornets were huddled around a PlayStation in the corner. Stern and Barclay seemed absorbed in a game of checkers. At the centre of it all was Minerva and Mama, each surrounded by a small pile of wood shavings. Mama was clearly midway through some sort of story that had the two of them stitched up in laughter.

Duck couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Minerva, of course, noticed him first.

“W – Duck Newton!” she boomed across the lobby. “Come look! We are carving your namesake!”

Sure enough, once he had made his way across the lobby, echoing the greetings sent his way, he could see she was indeed carving a small wooden duck.

“Very nice,” Duck felt weirdly nervous, as the two women – Mama and Minerva – caught sight of Jane.

Mama surprised him by breaking into a wide grin, “Well, Jane Newton, as I live and breathe. How the hell are you?”

“I’m good Madeleine,” Jane was smiling back, “Keeping well?”

“Wait, I didn’t know you knew each other,” interjected Duck.

“She took care of me often enough, back when she was doing that training at St. Francis.” Mama shook her head ruefully.

Jane laughed, “Well, I guess I know what all those injuries were really from. Hiking, my ass.” She turned to Duck, “Sorry, but I would be a shit doctor if I told you the details of my patients.”

“Fair ‘nuff,” Duck conceded. Minerva was looking at the two of them with interest. “Jane, this is Minerva.”

Jane smiled and offered her hand, Minerva took it without hesitation.

“Duck’s told me all about you,” said Jane enthusiastically. “I just wanted to say thank you for your service.”

Minerva looked confused. “My service, Jane Newton?”

“Yeah,” and Jane was snickering now. “Anyone who had to put up with 18 year-old Duck deserves a medal if you ask me.”

“Jane,” Duck warned. But Mama was already hooting with laughter, and Minerva looked thoughtful.

“He did cause me no small amount of consternation at times,” she admitted.“There was that one time he broke his arm and couldn’t practice sword fighting for a month, when he was trying to – how did you put it, Duck Newton, – ‘Do a rad skateboard flip?’”

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ.” Duck set his eyes firmly on the ceiling of the lodge, as if some divine influence would come to his aid. When he looked down he could see that Jane had honest to goodness tears of laughter in her eyes.

“Were you there for that time that he accidentally got stuck in the second floor window trying to sneak out of the house?”

“No!” Minerva sounded appalled, but Duck could see traces of amusement flitting about the corners of her mouth. “W – Duck Newton, I expected more of you. Did I not gift you with enhanced agility?”

“We – we, we had to call the firefighters to get him out, stuck ass first just hanging out over our garden,” Jane was wheezing with laughter, “And then, then there was this time at the zoo – “

“Nope,” Duck, spoke over her. “Nope, I am a grown ass man, Jane, you cannot tell that story.”

“Tell me, Jane Newton,” asked Minerva, as the three women completely ignored him, “Why is it that he chose to be named after a small, mostly aquatic creature?”

“Well,” began Jane, pulling up a chair and settling into it, “It all started with this school trip –“

Giving it up as a lost cause, Duck left them to it and joined Jake, who was mashing buttons on his controller with expert speed.

“Want a go, man?”

Duck sighed, “Why not.”

Unsurprisingly, Jane fit in perfectly. He guessed that’s why she was the world saving doctor, and he was the weirdo in the forest service. But as he looked around the lodge, it’s occupants bathed in warm amber light, and passed the controller back to Jake, he was having a hard time feeling anything but deep contentment.

The piano played, and he watched Minerva and Jane leaning towards each other conspiratorially, Jane’s brown hair almost touching the luxurious coils that had begun to spring from Minerva’s head. And Duck found himself thinking of Aubrey and Ned and wishing they were here too, because then everyone he loved would be together, and then –

“Oh fuck!” Duck said this loud enough that Jake let out a yelp and nearly dropped the controller.

“You okay, bro?”

“Yep,” replied Duck, not meaning it one bit. “Shit.”

“Ookay?” Jake looked a little weirded out but returned easily enough to his game.

“God-fucking- damnit,” muttered Duck. How was he supposed to hide this now? Why couldn’t he be even slightly good at lying?

Eventually, Jane excused herself from the group and came over. “You ok there Duck? You are looking a lil pink.”

“Awesome, just great.”

“Okay weirdo,” Jane pulled him into a tight hug, “Madeline says she has my room already for me, so I think I’m gunna turn in. Brunch at Wolf Embers tomorrow?”

“‘Course.”

“You gunna order French Onion Soup?”

“Absolutely.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Janey.”

She laughed and turned to go before she stopped and turned back, “I’m happy for you, Duck.”

Duck rolled his eyes, “For the last time, Janey, I am not datin’ anyone.”

“No,” Jane shook her head, “Not that.” She looked around the room, “I’m happy that you are letting people in again.”

“Janey…”

“I mean it, Duck.” And she leaned down to hug him once more before heading down the hall with Mama in tow.

Minerva was waiting for him at the door of the lodge. Duck felt his stomach do all sorts of horrible acrobatics.

“You’re sister is quite amusing, Duck Newton,” she proclaimed as soon as he was within earshot. Duck gave her what he was sure was a pained smile and nodded. Maybe he could just never speak around her again and then –

They walked to his borrowed truck in silence. Minerva seemed content to breathe in the cool air. With a proud smile, she took the driver’s seat. Fall was going to be coming to Kepler soon, but the air was still sweet with the flowers from Moira’s garden. Duck tried for a few steadying breaths.

He noticed she was holding the little carved duck as she squeezed herself into the vehicle, and clamped his mouth shut even firmer. God he was just going to say it and ruin everything and –

The drive was awkward. The walk up to his door even more so.

Minerva, mercifully, waited until they were inside his apartment to confront him. “Wayne, are you upset? I did not intend to cause offence with the story about the skateboard – “

“I like you,” burst out Duck gracelessly, “And I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want to go to Brazil without you.”

Minerva froze.

Duck was instantly horrified at himself. “Shit! Goddamnit, I’m sorry, Minnie I didn’t mean to just say it like that – I – god – “

She took a step towards him, and somewhere in him Duck found the will to shut up.

“Do – do you mean it?”

“Yeah,” Duck lowered his gaze to the floor. As if he had any choice but to be completely honest. “Yeah, I do.”

She was closer than he expected, and he felt her hand, the intentionality of her gentleness, as she lifted his chin.

“Wayne Newton,” Minerva’s expression was inscrutable, “I would like to kiss you.”

“What?” Duck breathed, he had not accounted for this possibility earlier at all.

Minerva ploughed ahead, “I have been conducting research and based on your Earth movies, I believe the customs and intentions are somewhat similar.”

“Yes,” blurted Duck, who apparently was nowhere near to done embarrassing himself for the night, “Yes, please do that.”

Minerva smiled, almost shyly, something Duck had certainly never seen before and leaned down. Very, very softly she pressed her mouth to his.

It was barely anything, just a brush of lips, he felt electric, like every nerve in his body was alight.

She pulled away, looking questioning, “Was that ok? It has also been quite sometime, I’m not sure my form is exactly correct.”

Duck couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t going to be embarrassingly gushy. So, in answer he just reached up for her, sliding his hands over her broad shoulders (god how long had he wanted to do that?) before pulling her back down to him.

He led this time, feeling her answer him as sure and smooth as their sparring sessions, only now he could feel her hands underneath him, lifting him easily and setting him on his kitchen island. And now he had the height advantage, and he could place his thumb against the delicate muscles of her throat and feel a pulse, strange in rhythm but steady and – she bit down on his lip, hard – Duck let out a yelp.

Instantly she started to pull away, “No, no,” Duck was already pulling her back, “God, please do that again.”

He felt her smile against his mouth, before pressing in again, and this time he would be the one to surprise her touching his tongue to her lower lip, sucking it’s fullness. She responded by sliding both hands into his hair and pulling, pressing her hips against his thighs.

Duck could already tell this was going to get out of hand fast.

“Minnie, honey,” He had to stifle another yelp as she moved to his neck, hand still firmly wrapped in his hair, “I suspect there might become, ah, some more physiological differences if we, god, move to the next part of this – so,” Duck completely lost his language capacity as she nuzzled his ear and then pulled away.

“You are probably correct,” she conceded. She regarded him matter of factly. “Shall we discuss tactics?”

Duck blinked at her, “God, that probably shouldn’t turn me on, but...” He ran a hand through his hair, his heart not so much racing as doing cartwheels in his chest. “Okay, so we are going to take showers, separately,” he added for clarity sake.

“You can shower non-separately?” Minerva enquired dubiously, “There is not very much space in said receptacle, that seems very disadvantageous.”

“Right,” Duck forced his mind back into focus, and firmly away from anything involving him an Minerva in a shower. “And then we are going to get into our pjs, and, then” he felt his cheeks burn, but forced himself to be an adult about this, ‘Uh, if you want we could share my bed? Like just to sleep? And cuddle?”

Minerva nodded slowly, “This is not the custom on Five, but then both you and your planet are much colder, so I imagine it will be much more comfortable.”

“Great,” Duck got up a little unsteadily, “Well, I am going to shower first, so – “ and he scooted out of the room.

One freezing shower later, and Duck was lying on his freshly changed bedsheets listening to Minerva rustle around the next room over. He was half overjoyed, half wishing he could time travel just to see the expression of abject horror on his 18 year old self’s face when he told him about what had just happened.

His bedroom door creaked open, and there was Minerva, silhouetted in the light from the windows. She was wearing another one of his old t-shirts – one that proclaimed ‘Skate is Life!’ – and one of the pairs of boxer shorts Aubrey had gotten when it became clear that no women’s pj pants would accommodate her inseam, her hair was wrapped up in a bright blue scarf.

This, realized Duck, was going to be extremely difficult.

“Hi.”

“Greetings, Wayne.” Like before she seemed to roll his name around her mouth. 

“Well,” said Duck, noticing her still hovering by the door, “‘S even more fitting now I suppose.”

Minerva nodded, and then approached the bed. Duck, had a horrifying thought. “Not that I was planning this, that’s not what I meant when I told you could call me that – I don’t want to to think I was plottin – “

In one graceful movement Minerva laid beside him. “I do not think that.” He was relieved to catch a flash of her teeth in the moonlight as she smiled. “You are incapable of that level of deception, Wayne.”

“Right.”

“It is a trait in you I have always found admirable.”

She was mirroring his position exactly, on her back, hands folded over chest. Well, in for a penny in for a pound, Duck figured and reached out to take the hand nearest to him.

He felt the bed shift, as she let out a deep breath.

“So,” Duck began, “We are going to have to talk about this at some point.”

“Agreed.”

“But, right now, I’m pretty damn tired. And I can’t seem to think of a single right thing to say.”

Minerva squeezed his hand, just on the edge of too hard, before seemed to remember herself and gentled her grip. “Agreed.”

And then,

“Wayne, what is ‘cuddling’?”

“Aw, Minnie,” and Duck was once again reminded of how much trust she put in him as her guide of all things Earth. “C’mere”

For two people of such different sizes, they fit together surprisingly well, and after a bit of figuring out they ended up on a sort of diagonal, Minerva’s head over his heart, and the rest of her curled around him like a giant cat. Before he could overthink it, Duck dropped a kiss on her forehead, just below her hairline, before dropping back onto his pillow.

*** *** *** ***

He woke to the morning sun, the birds chirping, and with his whole face smushed into Minerva’s chest. She was, as always, toasty warm and had wrapped all of her limbs protectively around him like a giant squid.

Duck was pretty sure this moment could give all of heaven a run for it’s money.

“Are you awake?” And he hadn’t known she could sound so soft. He felt her grip on him begin to loosen, and tried to bury himself further into her arms. Her chest shook with amusement.

“Yes,” sighed Duck. “Have I been keepin’ you here?”

“Not at all,” she stroked a hand through his hair. “I have decided that I approve of this ‘cuddling’.”

“‘S that so?” Duck took advantage of his vantage point and started laying kisses on her arms and shoulders where the ‘Skate is Life!’ t- shirt had slipped. Minerva made an encouraging noise.

“Indeed,” Minerva sighed as he gave into the urge to stroke his hands down the length of her legs, feeling the unbelievable strength in her muscles. “I have not had the opportunity for such closeness in a very long time, I had forgotten how good it could be.”

“We don’t have to talk about if, it’s – uh – gunna be upsettin’”

“To be frank, Wayne, there is not much to be told. Even before I was alone in body, I was alone in spirit.”

Duck pulled back to look at her expression, but as always Minerva was just being matter of fact. “I was born into the war that took my planet. There was little respite, and even then,” she repositioned a leg so he could reach more of it, “A few dalliances, but my people did not intertwine emotional and physical intimacy in the same way as yours. And what of you?”

Duck lost in the softness of her skin, and the intricacy of the tattoos inked onto it at regular intervals didn’t answer right away.

“Sounds pretty similar to yours, Minnie,” he replied at last, “Nothing special, a few girlfriends, I guess, I think I was a lil’ boring for most of their tastes to be honest.”

“Boring?” Minerva sounded surprised. “Wayne Newton, you were the wielder of the forces of destiny, a defender of Earth, you have many detailed insights about the local flora, and extensive knowledge of miniature warships, how could you be boring?”

Duck chuckled, “No idea, Minnie, no idea.”

*** *** *** ***

Duck’s sister eyed him suspiciously when he arrived at the Wolf Ember, right on time, and whistling cheerfully.

“You look happy,” she observed, eyes narrowed.

Duck grinned, and settled into his spot. No sooner than he had done so a steaming hot bowl of French Onion soup was placed in front of him. Duck sent a thumbs up in the general direction of the kitchen, and thought he heard a disproving scoff in reply.

“Something’s changed.”

“Aw Janey, c’mon. Can’t I just be happy to see my sweet baby sister?”

“I would ask if you have been body snatched by aliens, but knowing that is actually a very real possibility –“

Duck grinned again, mostly because he knew it would unnerve her further, and took a hearty bite of his soup. Somehow, today, it tasted even better that it ever had.

Jane’s omelette and fruit salad arrived, and she eyed him over it with no small amount of disgust. “Never mind, it’s definitely you.”

*** *** *** ***

So he was with Minerva now. That was a thing that happened.

Now, it wasn’t that Duck had never been in a relationship at all. As he had told Minerva, there had been a few girlfriends back in the day. But it always seemed like the things that came with that, the things his buddies, now mostly married and a couple kids deep wanted. Those things had just seemed strange to him. There had even been a time, somewhere in his thirties, where he had thought that maybe he just wasn’t built that way. That maybe those things weren’t his cup of tea. Affection and attraction, sure, but he wasn’t the kind to lose his head over someone, or pick up and move to another state for them or something insane like that.

Well it seemed like, as usual, Duck was merely a couple decades late to (and one planet away from) the party.

And it wasn’t like much had changed between him and Minerva, it seemed they had sort of been living like partners anyways. It was just, the feeling had changed. He was apparently the schmuck who smiled whenever he passed the cereal aisle and saw the type of cereal she liked best. Or who got all giddy when she liked the same movies as him. The first few days had been overwhelming. It was exhausting and amazing and –“

“God, you are so hot.” Duck felt himself turn bright red, as Minerva paused and looked at him. They sitting in his apartment, it had been unseasonably cold and rainy, and so much of this weekend had been spent playing chess. A large pile of his black pieces were sitting beside the board. Duck estimated she was about three moves away from checkmate.

“I am several degrees Fahrenheit warmer than the average human, yes.”

“That is not what I meant, Minnie, and you know it.”

She considered him and then the board, “Check.” She moved her bishop, “I was not aware that playing games of strategy was considered arousing for humans.”

“Me neither.” Duck sighed, and then moved his king. “Did people do this on Five? When they were – hm – attracted to each other? Like hang out and play games together?”

Minerva seemed to ponder this for sometime. She moved her queen. “Checkmate.”

“We don’t have to go into it ,” Duck dramatically toppled his king so it laid at her queen’s feet, but couldn’t help but grin when he saw her pleased expression. “It’s just, I’m sort of in the deep end here.”

Minerva fiddled with her queen and then reached out to take his hand, considering it before lacing her fingers between his. “It was similar, I think. But I never paid much attention. My people were very long lived, there was less of a drive for romantic coupling. But,”

She slid her hand down his wrist pausing where the skin was thinnest, reading him for a reaction, before smoothly twisting her arms so that his forearms were cradled in her hands. A move so deliberate, Duck suspected some other meaning to it.

“For what is going on, I do not think a precedent exists, and some of the things, certain interests I feel.” She looked uncertain, but smiled warm and open, “I believe I am in this deep end of yours as well.”

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to make it up as we go along. Just do what feels right.”

And Minerva smiled, small and soft.

Duck stood, intending to move to her side of the table at least so he could hold her, but to his surprise Minerva stood too, and pulled him towards his bedroom.

“Uh,” said Duck. “Okay.”

“I should like to see you,” she explained.

“I mean I am standing right here – ohh –“ Duck looked at her a little surprised.

Minerva rubbed the back of her neck. “I have complimented your form before, is this so surprising?”

“I – uh – no – I mean sure,” Duck had always sort of assumed she was being facetious, but then again – Duck reached for the back of his shirt to pull it off, then paused. “Would you like to do it?”

Minerva looked surprised, and then a little hungry. “Yes,” she decided. And Duck had to swallow a few times, to try and calm himself down.

Slowly, carefully, and barely touching him, she lifted off the shirt. Duck tried not to squirm or suck in his gut under her gaze. It was only half lit in the bedroom, the murky sky filtering softly through the blinds, but it wasn’t like he had the best body out there, certainly nothing on the god level of Minerva –

“May I touch?” And her voice, it had taken on that quality again, quiet, almost rough.

“Please,” was all he managed.

Her hands encircled his forearms as they had before, then upwards, across his shoulders and down his back, cataloging, careful. Each touch felt like electricity, just on the right side of ticklish. For a long time Duck just forced himself to stand still for her. She even walked around behind him, trailing her fingers over his the back of his neck.

She was inches from him now, and Duck could feel the warmth coming from her, irresistible. Her breath was nearly as uneven as his. Duck’s resolve broke. He reached up for her kissing first her collarbones, which were in easy range, and then her neck as she made encouraging noises. Her touch became a little more insistent, sliding down his spine and then back up.

Duck whimpered as she bent to kiss him, perfection in this as she was in nearly all physical endeavours. Her hands closed over his biceps, way too hard, and Duck felt his legs nearly give out.

“Minnie, honey, can we lie down?”

She blinked, as if coming out of a daze, and Duck was more than a little pleased to see her chest rising and falling rapidly as it did after a sparring session. “Will that not make harder to remove the rest of your garments?”

“Yeah probably,” Duck barely held it together as she passed a hand down his chest, to the band of his shorts, “But I’m about to fall over.”

“Oh!” A very smug look appeared on her face, and without any effort at all she scooped him up and laid him down on the bed.

It was much easier to kiss her from this angle, with nearly all of her weight pressing him into the mattress. Duck was overwhelmed by the feeling of being safe, surrounded.

“Can I as well?” Duck managed to say after a few attempts, his fingers brushing the hem of her t-shirt. “Is it okay?”

She nodded, a little jerkily, shimmying out her shorts as she reached for his.

And then there they were, lying next to each other. Naked as a pair of jay birds. Neither of them quite sure where to start. Duck looked at Minerva, and saw the affection and amusement he was feeling echoed in her expression.

“I’m feeling a little ridiculous here, Minnie.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Her eyes crinkled in a smile, and her laugh always booming filled the space between them, meeting his own wry chuckle.

“Well then,” said Duck, once their laughter had died down. They were still looking into each other’s eyes, but there was now an intensity beginning to grow. A certain anticipation.

“Well then,” repeated Duck, heat running up and down his back as she continued to watch him. “I’ll follow your lead.”

*** *** *** ***

“I’m gunna go,” said Duck, next time he saw Juno at the station, “But only if Minerva can come with me, and only if I can take some time off beforehand, we’re going on vacation.”

Juno beamed, but didn’t look surprised. If she had a comment though she restrained herself. “I’m glad. Duck, shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good.”

Her smiled became a little more teasing, Duck braced himself. “So you talked to her then, huh.”

“Juno…”

“Oh c’mon Duck, you’re no fun at all.”

Duck tried his best to give her a withering stare. Based on the way her grin only widened more, he assumed he failed. Whatever. He guessed his general cheerfulness and newly found tendency to blush madly whenever anyone brought up Minerva gave him away no matter what.

“Fine, fine,” Juno sighed dramatically, “Well, you will have months to tell me anyways because I am coming too.”

Duck grinned, and then paused. “Hold up didn’t you just get that big promotion?”

“Sure did,” Juno puffed out her chest, “You are looking at the new project manager, for the Rangers for Rainforests Program.”

“Rangers for –“

“It’s a work in progress –“

“Sure enough – “ Duck laughed, “Oh Jesus, you’re gunna be my boss now aren’t you?”

“Yup,” Juno’s smile became a little dangerous, “You remember all your forestry regulations there, Ranger Newton? I’m noticing that shirt has a few wrinkles, not quite to standard…”

Duck groaned, “Damn it all, I knew this day would come –“

“And is that a coffee stain on your pants, because – “

“Okay, Okay!”

*** *** *** ***

“I did not want you to leave either,” admitted Minerva, so softly he nearly missed it. They were lying together, in his bed – their bed – the window open and night air spilling in. Duck pulled her a little closer to him, still revelling in their closeness, that he got to do this, see this side of her. They would be heading out tomorrow. Leo had already departed in the Winnebago and was waiting for them in New York, but Duck and Minerva would take a more winding path, just because they could.

“I know,” Duck replied quiet as well, “I know that now.”

“I asked so much of you before I –“

“Hey,” Duck squirmed a bit so they were eye to eye, “It’s all past us now, remember?”

“Yes,” Minerva sighed, “Yes.” She leaned over to kiss him, because that was also something they got to do now, and his whole chest ached from happiness.

“I don’t think,” said Duck when they finally parted, feeling most pleasantly out of breath, “That I ever want you to leave, if that’s okay.” He met her eye, “I know that is a bit of an turnaround from how it was before.”

“I can do that,” and maybe Minerva was a little out of breath too.

“Great,” said Duck.

And god did he mean it.

FIN 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s all folks! I admit, I feel a bit weird posting the rest of this story with how the world is going right now, But perhaps some of y’all, like me, could use a little respite every now and then. I hope you liked my story, it ain’t perfect but I tried to make it loving and joyful so there’s that. As always feel free to kudos and comment.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! This is a story in 3 parts, the next part should be out next week. I am quite new to the TAZ fandom, and any and all errors are my own. It’s just sometimes you listen so hard to a podcast you write a 20,000 word story.


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